Over Him
by Mirune Keishiko
Summary: They say kitsune are cursed to be alone forever. A year in the life of one very human Takani Megumi.
1. Tell Me What the Rain Knows

**Over Him**

by Mirune Keishiko

* * *

_Chapter One_

**Tell Me What the Rain Knows**

_About time_, thought Takani Megumi dully, staring out at the sullen afternoon. After having been humid and overcast all morning, it was at last beginning to rain. Buildings, cars, traffic signs, people outside the cafe window blurred into a watery gray.

She sipped at her rapidly cooling coffee and eyed the rumpled bits of straw wrapper on the table with a certain enmity. She hated clutter. Normally, so did her friend Kamiya Kaoru, but then Megumi supposed one could forgive a young woman's heedlessness now and then. Especially when said young woman was still starry-eyed over last night's wedding proposal from a certain gorgeous, good-hearted redhead.

It all felt so oddly, unpleasantly familiar, but there was no denying the freshness of the pain in her heart.

Sighing, Megumi gathered the trash into a neat pile on one side of the table. Tilting her head back, she tipped the last drops of black coffee into her mouth.

She had heard, once, that kitsune were doomed to immortalities of loneliness, never to find another with whom to share the endlessness of their existence. Life after ordinary life of humans would pass, ephemeral, bright, dizzy in their teetering between intimacy and solitude, while the kitsune endured. She smiled without mirth. Or were they really doomed...?

Rising to her feet, she shrugged on her coat and picked up her umbrella.

It was the absolute pits as a habit, she knew, as she fished out the somewhat squashed little stick from inside her purse. It meant she was weak, couldn't handle things by herself but needed some chemical supplement to her character. It meant she thought so little of her life that she was willing to smoke it all away, one deep, deliberate breath at a time.

Yare yare. One could forgive a young woman's willfulness now and then. It wasn't everyday that the man you'd been in love with for the last three years pledged himself in lifelong commitment to your best friend.

Coming to a halt outside the cafe's entrance where the overhanging tarpaulin sheltered her from the rain, Megumi raised the sorry little cigarette to her lips--and then cursed softly as she realized she'd left her lighter at home. She'd been so good at quitting thus far...

With a quick, impatient movement, she snatched the cigarette back from her mouth. Then she became aware of a lighter snapping into flame, near her face.

"That's gonna kill you someday, you know," drawled the tall, wild-haired man who had come up beside her. His white shirt was damp with rain. Wordlessly steadying his lighter with slender fingers covering his, she lit up. His hand beneath hers was strong, large, fine-boned.

"There are worse ways to go." Megumi glanced up at him almost indifferently, slowly inhaling the gritty smoke, then releasing it in a long, thin, measured stream. "Sanosuke Sagara."

_owari_

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Just a hasty scribble I dreamed up while listening to Yoko Kanno/Sakamoto Maaya's "Gravity," the sad, fascinating ending theme to "Wolf's Rain." The title of the piece is from another "Wolf's Rain" song. 

I really intend no plot. But hey, if you happen to still see one lurking in here somewhere, let me know.Ü


	2. Catching Up

**Over Him**

by Mirune Keishiko_  
_

_

* * *

Chapter Two_

**Catching Up  
**

She wandered listlessly among the displays of sparkling crystal and gleaming silver, her gaze shadowed and distant, drifting from one expensive and beautiful item to another—until there was a sharp tapping at the glass just beyond, and, startled, Megumi looked up to find Sano grinning at her through the window.

"I don't have time for lunch," she said uselessly, halfheartedly digging in her heels into the sidewalk like a child as he tugged her along. "I have too much to do at the dorm. I gave myself just five minutes to look for something for the wedding—"

"—and you spent a grand total of fifteen minutes going through that store like a zombie." Sanosuke, seeing Megumi's eyes light up despite herself at the sign over the restaurant's door, pushed her gently inside. "I know you know this is the only place in town that really knows its tea."

Only when she sat cradling the cup of fragrant, unsweetened _otsuusan_ did Megumi realize how much the early autumn air had chilled her fingers. But the satisfied gleam in Sano's eyes from across the table brought annoyance in a wash of heat over her cheeks, and she drowned what would have been a grudging, grateful smile in faintly bitter tea.

"I'd thank you"—cocking one slim eyebrow—"but I have the funny feeling I'll end up paying for this anyway."

Sano placed his hands over his heart with a wounded look, and just then their food arrived. Megumi had tried to insist that it be wrapped and ready for her to take out, but Sanosuke, with his most charming grin and a semblance of a leer finely calculated to flatter, had won the blushing young waitress over to his side.

"Fifteen minutes," stated Megumi flatly, already delving into her mushrooms and rice, "and not a second more."

But fifteen minutes passed, and she never noticed; Megumi had not talked with Sanosuke or any of the others in weeks, pleading exams to study for, lectures to attend, extra credit assignments to complete. When had she stopped enjoying their company, she wondered—but lately she had been glad for the easy excuses to hide herself away in her schoolwork, away from the enviable happiness of her two recently engaged friends.

But med school was a hard and lonely life, and Sanosuke—whatever else she thought of him—the only human being in the world she felt comfortable swearing at. So she found herself telling him the little stories she had collected one by one over the past few weeks, each silly or angry or just the slightest bit resigned, about her classmates and teachers and bits of cadavers; she had kept these bottled up inside her all this time that she had had no one else to tell them to, and it felt good to finally let them spill. And she was still shaking her head and grinning ruefully down at the dregs of her tea when he gave her his own rueful smile and pointed up at the clock on the wall.

"Forty-five minutes, Megitsune."

She swore at him again—perhaps also because she wouldn't be able to do it for a while, not until the next time they met, which, she told herself, for the sake of her studies, should be _never_. She had caught up her bag and her books and was getting up to leave when he reached out to still her with a hand on her arm.

"Don't make me have to hunt you down again, kitsune-onna," he said quietly, with a perfectly serious smile. "Some people can be a total pain in the ass when they're worried about you."

She thought of Kenshin, always caring about everyone but himself, and bit back the words that flew to the tip of her tongue—_Never quite worried enough._ The hand on her arm was solid, warm, strong; she thought she felt her blood pulse beneath his palm.

She put on her sweetest smile. "I'm fine, toriatama. There's no reason for me not to be."

And she left before he could realize that _she_ had stranded _him_ with the bill this time.

_tsuzuku

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**A/N.** "Otsuusan" is a type of _sencha_, one of several varieties of Japanese green tea; I got this, and plenty more information than I now know what to do with, from o-cha(dot)com.

On and off the past several months, it's occurred to me to maybe continue where I left off in "Tell Me What the Rain Knows." It seemed pretty warmly received (many thanks, as always, to those who read and reviewed!), and now in my themes-based fic community-joining mania I have something to work with at last. _beams _(Themes here: "unsweetened tea" and "reaching".)

And so I've changed the title and made a very few edits to the body of the previous chapter, but otherwise kept things as they used to be. I dunno, I'm a bit obsessive and I like preserving things for posterity... or something. :p

Just let me know if I'm getting boring or repetitive or terribly unoriginal (as well as the usual: wrong characterization, facts, or whatever); I have the creeping fear that that's exactly what might happen to me...

It's interesting not to nail myself to a clear-cut narrative outline for once, so that, although this story _will_ proceed chronologically in a fairly neat and orderly manner, chapters I think will be a little more random, a little more here-and-there than usual.

I hope you enjoyed reading this. See you in the next chapter!


	3. Skeletons Uncloseted

**Over Him**

by Mirune Keishiko

* * *

_chapter three_

**Skeletons Uncloseted**

One thing that was so very nice about Himura Kenshin, Kaoru decided happily, was that he never failed to appreciate her. The man who was more gorgeous and more sexy and kinder and sweeter than any living human being had a right to be, had eyes only for her—whether she had just gotten up from bed in a pair of rumpled pajamas, or was dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt, or wore a plunging neckline, thigh-high slits, and three-inch heels.

And now, opening the door of her apartment to find him in quite the fetching costume of dark blue gi and white hakama, complete with arm guards and fake katana, she saw the shock register on his face and felt very, very pleased indeed.

Sailor-type high school uniform with short plaid skirt, $12. Knee-high socks and black mary janes, $38.

The look of amazement and sudden, naked, starving lust in her fiancé's gleaming eyes—

Kaoru gulped.

Priceless.

"Y-you look really good in that, Kenshin," she stammered, trying to smile obliviously despite the burning in her cheeks. "Come right in. I was just getting my bag ready."

Kenshin made no move. He, for his part, apparently had no problems smiling. Kaoru bit her lip unconsciously, feeling heat sparkle within her at the predatory grin slowly curving his mouth.

"I'm not so sure I should, Kaoru-dono." Never taking his eyes off her, he leaned against the doorjamb, luxuriating in the long, creamy slopes of her thighs. "After all, we don't want to miss Katsu's party, do we?"

As it turned out, they were only about an hour late, and fifteen minutes of that delay was more due to Kenshin's insistence that Kaoru change into pants before they went out than to their spontaneous intimacy.

"At least tie a jacket around your waist or something," pleaded Kenshin futilely as she tugged him out into the crisp evening.

"Mou, Kenshin, it would ruin the whole effect." But Kaoru's tone was mild, and she threaded her arm through his companionably as they began to walk the few blocks to their friend Katsu's downtown apartment. After all, as one _very_ satisfied woman, she wasn't in any place to argue tonight. She rubbed her hot cheek against his cool one. "Megumi was the one who suggested this, actually. She says all men have schoolgirl fantasies."

Kenshin chuckled. "I didn't use to, but I think I will from now on." When Kaoru abruptly turned beet red, he had to choke back his laughter.

"I really hope Megumi comes tonight," Kaoru said some time later as they stood outside Katsu's door, which had been painted to look like the lid of an Egyptian sarcophagus. "We haven't seen her in ages."

Kenshin gingerly reached into the gaping maw of a human skull—"is that thing _real?"_ whispered Kaoru, horrified; "Maybe Megumi-dono _is_ coming tonight," he whispered back with a shrug—and pressed the doorbell, which set off loud, menacing recorded laughter echoing inside the apartment beyond.

"Sano told me he got to talk to her a few days ago," he said, trying to distract her from the skull, at which she kept staring in horror. Kenshin rather liked the way she burrowed against his side and clutched at his arm. "He said she seemed okay. He was pretty mad," he added more cheerfully, recalling Sanosuke's exaggerated movements and colorful words when he had told Kenshin the story, "because she left him with the bill."

Kaoru laughed. "He's got it pretty bad for her, doesn't he?" Her sapphire eyes twinkled, so pretty he indulged himself in a kiss on her nose.

"I don't think he even realizes just how bad, my little hentai schoolgirl." He nuzzled the warm skin behind her ear, drunk on the scent of her. Kaoru giggled and shivered despite herself.

"Kenshin! Katsu will be out any minute—"

Just then the door opened, with Tsukioka Katsuhiro, famous film director and not-so-secret connoisseur of Hollywood women's fashion, unabashedly resplendent in a black-sequined version of Morticia Addams's gown; and over his shoulder, a curious Megumi caught sight of the flushed and weakly grinning couple from where she stood in the living room.

Kenshin tended to notice much more than he let on. As he fended off Katsu's teasing and Kaoru bubbled with praise for their host's splendiferous Halloween costume, he saw a slight, wistful smile cross Megumi's pale face—only for a moment, before she turned and walked quickly out of sight.

_tsuzuku_

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**A/N.** I think I had a wee bit more fun writing this chapter than I really should. Done in about two hours. (Yes, I know, _still_ a ridiculously long time to come up with this short a piece...) Themes: "school uniform" and "cross-dressing."

Hmm, do you, dear readers, prefer this style? It's a lot less angsty and more off-the-top-of-my-head than my usual style. I'm just asking for future reference. Ü

As always, constructive feedback is very welcome.


	4. Eyes on Her

**Over Him**

by Mirune Keishiko

* * *

_chapter four_

**Eyes on Her**

She was beautiful. Up close and talking to him she could be irritating sometimes—dancing circles around him with that sharp tongue and sharper wit of hers, her way with words frustrating him no end—but for now, Sanosuke was clear across the room from her and free to silently admire her all he wanted. She had undone the long braid of her hair so that it feathered around her shoulders, the normally straight tresses slightly wavy and gleaming in the light. Costumed as an elf princess, she had dusted her face with powder that made her features seem to glow with their own radiance. Full, berry-red lips quirked in a mock pout at something her companion said, before opening for some undoubtedly caustic remark and a long, trailing peal of coy laughter.

And her cheeks were a bright, endearing shade of blazing pink, because she was obviously getting rather badly drunk.

Sano eyed her grimly as she tossed back the last of her vodka cocktail—her eighth, if he wasn't mistaken. Absently he noted the sensuous arc of her white throat as she swallowed.

On the couch beside him were Kenshin and Kaoru, the latter eagerly discussing the upcoming wedding with a gaggle of other girls. Kenshin, Sanosuke noticed with some humor, had long since glazed over.

"For pete's sake, Sano!"—he started at the sound of Katsu's voice; his childhood friend had crept up behind the couch and now spoke into his ear teasingly—"take her home and have your way with her already. The suspense is killing me."

"Says the guy who can't get up the balls to even talk to a certain scythe-wielding assistant producer." Sano grinned, glancing meaningfully in the direction of one Honjou Kamatari, who was among a group in the corner enjoying the original _Dawn of the Dead_.

Offended, Katsu drew up to his full height, glittery black sleeves trailing from the hands he put on his hips. "Hmph. I don't like you anymore. You fight dirty."

"You know deep down inside I love you, Katsu." Out of the corner of his eye, Sanosuke saw Megumi stand and gather up her bag; she teetered for a moment on her pencil-thin heels before regaining her composure. He stood up as well, Katsu arching an eyebrow at him and smirking. "And you and Kamatari have my blessing."

"We damn well better. But I'll save _my_ blessing for if something ever actually _happens_ between you and Arwen Undomiel over there."

Kenshin had apparently snapped out of his reverie; he turned knowing violet eyes on Sano as the latter was shrugging into his jacket. "You'll take her home, Sano?"

"Yeah." Sanosuke ran a hand through his uncombed hair, partly to hide the flush across his face. Kenshin rarely missed a thing. "Let's hope I survive."

Megumi was brief but gracious as ever as she took her leave of Katsu; gallantly the film director offered her the guest room for the night, but she declined, saying that she didn't want to disturb him with her presence the next morning. Sano stayed out of her sight, only just close enough to hear the slight slur in her words. When she left—insisting that Katsu not call a cab for her, she would be fine by herself—Sanosuke stood by the door and counted an eternity of five seconds, then slipped out after her.

He caught her just as her sandal slipped on an oil puddle on the sidewalk. Normally Megumi would have corrected herself and gone on without missing a beat; but she cried out and slumped painfully against him just as he came rushing up, and Sanosuke winced at the thought of her hitting the pavement so bonelessly.

"Who—" Megumi's shadowed eyes weaved up to meet his, and she blinked slowly. "Tori...atama?"

Drunk off her pretty little butt and she still didn't call him by his real name. Sano sighed, hefting her in his arms. "Megitsune. It's time you went to bed."

"Fuck you," she said calmly. Sanosuke barely noticed; he was busy flagging down a taxicab. "I go to bed on my own terms..."

The world heaved around her before she could finish, and she clutched frantically at his arm for support. Squinting against the bright street lamp, she was too dizzy to offer much resistance as she felt Sano's strong arms around her, guiding her legs and tucking her head under his arm, and then she was sitting down in somewhere dark and cushiony and faintly pine-scented, and it began to move.

"You're fucking paying for this cab," she warned him, her voice muffled against his jacket.

Sano groaned. "Great. An elven princess with a potty mouth."

"I try to talk down to your level," she muttered into his bare chest, and promptly fell asleep.

Thank God, thought Sanosuke, gingerly shifting her face with her delicately parted lips and cold nose away from the gap in his Bruce Lee-themed jacket. Warm and soft, heavy and fragrant against his side, her nearness was doing things to him she was really better off not knowing about.

But then she fought his attempts to move her away and instead burrowed closer, blindly rubbing her cheek against his chest, her fingers twining into his jacket, murmuring something about the cold. Beneath her Sano froze, feeling his blood pound in his ears as she snuggled into him.

The crushed silk of her hair rubbing against acutely sensitive parts and her hot breath misting his bare skin, chilled from the night air—the sensations shot lightning-white and urgent through his body to land, smoldering, in one particular place.

He didn't realize he had been holding his breath until the taxicab pulled up outside her university dorm.

Torn between vast relief and equally vast disappointment, he looked up at the darkened entrance through the cab window—and cursed out loud.

Apparently Megumi had a curfew, and she'd missed it by a mile.

_tsuzuku_

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_

**A/N.** Whoops, rating went up right under my nose. Hee hee! This was one of those heaven-sent chapters that wriggled out from beneath my fingers and ran away from me, the kind that sleepy authors like myself pray for. The muse is kind to me tonight... or so it seems. (One never can tell with these muses, sigh.) Theme: "sensations."

Special thanks to sueb262, who has been so generous not only with her reviews but also with her own works. Anyone looking for quality fanfic, just hop on over to her profile!

Feedback always appreciated!


	5. Some Nights

**Over Him**

by Mirune Keishiko

* * *

_chapter five_

**Some Nights**

Megumi put up a lot less fuss than he'd expected.

Hardly any fuss at all, really, when she blearily woke up from her light dozing to find herself in distinctly unfamiliar surroundings. Sanosuke was uneasy as he explained to her about the curfew, but she simply nodded, fatigue drawing shadows across her face, and apologized quietly for imposing on him.

"I could stay with Kaoru—" She stopped. What small light had suddenly appeared in her eyes died just as quickly.

"Aw, c'mon." Trying a grin, he shuffled his hair nervously through his fingers. "My room can't be _that_ bad."

She smiled groggily, slurred another thank you, and gently shut the door in his face.

And began to cry.

Sanosuke stood outside the door, stricken.

The first sob tore out of her, her fierce, tenuous grip on herself slipping at last. She muffled it immediately—drowning the spasm of grief in a hasty, indrawn breath and a mouthful of fist.

But the next one came, and the next, and then another: a low, wretched keening escaping her feeble attempts at control. Her mind was reeling from the alcohol, the dimly lit room floundered around her. She slumped against the far wall, hugging herself, wishing the world would slow down. She was vaguely aware that this was someone else's home, she was virtually a stranger, they would hear her, she was a mess, and it would be so embarrassing...

...but now he was holding her, stroking her tangled hair making hesitant, rumbly shushing sounds, and his embrace was so strong and so kind, it took every last scrap of her strength not to simply collapse into his arms.

Carefully Sano drew her fist from her mouth. Her teeth left little angry dents across her knuckles. Her back was rigid under his hand; he held her until she finally gave in and sank against him, her tears soaking hot and sticky into his jacket.

Kleenex had been struck from his bachelor's budget a long time ago. Sheepishly he handed her a roll of toilet paper. She took it without hesitation and blew her nose stormily.

When she had subsided into miserable sniffling he made up his mind and hefted her into his arms. She was still disoriented from the drink and clung to his neck like a child, hiccupping dejectedly, as he carried her over to the bed.

He laid her gently on the rumpled sheets, tucking her dress around her and resolutely not thinking of the sweet curve of her hip under the flimsy fabric. When he started to pull away, her hand tightened on the sleeve of his jacket. Half-lidded eyes peered at him through strands of silky hair.

Then her fingers fell slack, and she looked away in shame.

"If there's something you want," muttered Sano awkwardly, staring at the bedsheet several inches from her face and flushing under the feeling that his voice echoed too loudly in the silent room, "you can just ask."

She paused. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Some nights you just need to be held while you sleep.

_tsuzuku_

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**A/N.** Ooh, this was quick. Yay.

OOC much? I try not to explain too much about the story itself--I guess that if I wrote well enough, then there is no need for explanations anywhere else--but here I'll make an exception, just in case, and say that Megumi here is just very drunk and feeling terribly vulnerable. And that Sano is not such a blockhead that he won't drop his badass act to let a sodden, heartbroken lady cry into his shoulder without complaint.

Call me narcissistic and insecure, but I'm a bit worried about the seeming lack of reception to this. If it's anything wrong with my writing, please be so kind as to let me know. Is the drabble style not working, are the chapters too short to be effective? Characterization off? I don't mean to impose on readers for reviews, but I do care about giving you quality fic to read. Ü

Thanks and see you in the next chapter!


	6. Afterglow

**A/N.** Mou, I know this is an awfully "wtf?" chapter, but please forgive me. All of a sudden I just want to keep writing tonight but the obsessive-compulsive part of me refuses to let me break the pattern of short chapters. But I'm posting a whole bunch of these anyway (_crosses fingers_) so as not to break the momentum. And just so everyone knows, I'm officially taking my brain off the hook while I'm on this binge and letting my subconscious take over, so... yeah. Hope y'all have fun.

(Oh, and thanks to everyone who read and reviewed. You are so nice to me. Snif!)

**

* * *

Over Him**

by Mirune Keishiko

* * *

_chapter six_

**Afterglow**

She woke up alone in the darkness, in a haze of pain, dizziness, and stark panic.

_holy shit where _am_ I! oh God oh God I don't know where I _am_, I feel like hell and where's my _phone!_ and what _time _is __it? oh God so this is what it's like to have the world waltz around you I think I'm gonna be sick... but I'll be damned if I get sick here and I _still_ don't know where "here" is and shit I have tests to study for and I really, _really_ need to get back..._

Bathroom. Aspirin. Water. Good. Breathe.

She staggered over to the nearest chair in the little kitchen area and plopped down into it, willing her head to clear. Numbly she forced herself to check—no bruises or broken bones, no suspicious aches or sore spots, nothing torn or missing from her dress. She could have laughed out loud with relief. She realized she was still trembling.

Damn, she was hungry.

The leftover pizza in the fridge didn't smell or look too un-pizza-like, and between that and a small half-empty jar of sandwich spread it wasn't like she had much of a choice. Though the walls still tilted and spun lazily around her she managed to walk without stumbling too badly. A full set of dinnerware glistened wet in the dishrack. To distract herself from the howling wilderness in her roiling stomach and the fascinating way she _still_ somehow kept losing her balance even when she made herself stand perfectly still, and while waiting for the microwave oven to beep her salvation, she rummaged through the dilapidated refrigerator. The carton of spoiled milk she dumped into the empty trashbag. She noted, with a shudder, that the jar of sandwich spread was also past the expiry date.

Hot pepperoni-and-mushroom: _Heaven_.

Slumped in the battered living room sofa, savoring the hot, greasy, heavy feel of the last slice slowly settling into her somewhat more stable insides, she gradually became aware of the faint sawing noise.

After a few moments it would stop, and then loud, muffled thudding noises would echo as though someone were shifting around something huge and heavy; and then after a bit of silence the sawing would resume.

The clock over the coat rack read five-thirty-seven.

_I gotta get me some of that work ethic,_ mused Megumi, less than half joking.

As she lay bonelessly on the sofa, her head and her stomach starting to come to terms with the rest of her at last, she tried to piece together her eventful night. Katsu doing a Morticia—Kaoru and Ken-san—fake eyeballs in the martinis—Ken-san and Kaoru—Sano quite delicious in his half-open jacket—Sano catching up to her on the sidewalk...

...Sano _catching_ her on the sidewalk...

...Sano holding her as she fell asleep.

Megumi felt her face burn.

_tsuzuku

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_


	7. Taut

**Over Him**

byMirune Keishiko

* * *

_chapter seven_

**Taut**

A hint of sweet roses; delicate feminine sweat; traces of rich shampoo.

Her skin glowing in the moonlight through the window. In the stillness of the night and the shadowed room, her deep, even breathing had seemed unbearably loud. It had drawn his attention insistently to the gentle rise and fall of her back as she slept.

Clasped loosely in his arms, she had been so _real_, so soft and solid and inviting; the heat from her body making it painfully clear how close to him she lay, how easy it would be to just move his head—only a little, little bit, it would be absolutely no effort at all—and kiss her, on those full, rosy lips just begging to be suckled...

And so he had leaped out of bed before hardly an hour had passed since she'd fallen asleep. He shivered, now, merely recalling the strength of will he'd had to muster just to move his taut and hungry body away from the beautiful woman who lay so trusting and unafraid in his own bed.

By four in the morning he had finished cleaning his apartment. He'd taken out the trash, done the week's worth of dishes, and put the cushions back on the sofa from their accustomed spot on the floor. He had even taken care to pick up his scattered laundry and put them in his hamper, rather than simply pile them in the corner as he usually did in his most industrious moments. He was reasonably certain that she'd been too out of it to notice the mess, for which he was deeply grateful.

He'd thought he could handle it then; he'd thought he had calmed down.

But in his bed, tangled up in his sheets, she had rolled over onto her back. Her flimsy costume gown had clung to the graceful curves of her body. Feeling like a teenager, picturing his grade school librarian naked—old Genzai-sensei naked—Katsu naked ("why Sano, I didn't know you cared!")—he had hurriedly drawn the blanket back over her exposed legs, her small feet, and left the room.

By five in the morning he had made more progress on his current project in thirty minutes than he'd done in the last three days.

Sanosuke sandpapered the arm of the chair with single-minded ferocity. At close to dawn on a late-autumn morning it was biting cold outside, but most of the windows to the workshop were closed and he had worked himself so hard that he'd stripped off his shirt, and still he was sweating.

He was thinking back to when he'd first met Megumi two years ago. Sekihara Tae had commissioned from him a set of shoji panels, as well as the entire bar, for her newly renovated restaurant the Akabeko; she had, naturally, invited him to the grand reopening. Fresh from an ugly breakup with one Amakusa Sayo at that time and not trusting himself to go alone, he had brought along his old friend Kenshin, who, that July, had been quietly moping about the graduation the previous month of some blue-eyed college student he'd been advising on her undergraduate thesis.

And then the sulking man had lit up like a lightbulb when he'd caught sight of Kamiya Kaoru from across the room—a bubbly, good-natured, hot-tempered girl he recognized from his little sister Misao's stories of their new social studies teacher, the one whom all the boys were falling for (ocean eyes rolling). Kenshin, of course, was all innocent politeness and formality as he congratulated his former student on her graduation and her new job. As far as Sano was concerned, though, the bright red blush across Kaoru's cheeks gave them both away.

He would never have let Kenshin live it down, except that, as it turned out, Kenshin also knew Kaoru's companion—a coy, haughty beauty who lost no time in draping herself over him, much to her best friend's palpable irritation. A classmate from his short-lived med school days, Kenshin had explained, sheepishly extricating himself from Takani Megumi's embrace.

Sano found himself intrigued by her—annoyed, challenged, tempted, baited, frustrated by her. She was a refreshing change from his old girlfriend: sassy and sharp-tongued where Sayo had been shy and tactful, mischievous and teasing where Sayo had been gentle and serious. Megumi had been surprised to learn that he had designed much of the furniture and crafted some of the large-scale woodwork, applying traditional Japanese artisanship to stylish European motifs. He had been surprised to realize that her genuine, knowledgeable admiration meant a lot to him.

He had thought, at first, that her flirting with Kenshin was nothing but playful. But as the night had worn on—they had gone for late-night dimsum and had had to be practically kicked out of the place—he had noticed the warmth in her hazel eyes whenever she looked at Kenshin and her small, envious glances toward him and Kaoru as the pair chatted companionably, and Sanosuke had known that she was lost to him.

Two years later the pain and sorrow of Sayo's leaving had long since faded, and he still couldn't bring himself to go back upstairs and calmly face a Megumi who looked good enough to eat, even when she was dead asleep, totally wasted, and heartbroken to boot.

Unable to hold back a rueful grin at the memory of her sprawled across his bed, he stopped sandpapering and stepped back to inspect his work. He blew on the now satin-smooth wood; fine sawdust gusted away in clouds.

He heard a sound behind him and turned before he thought.

Her long hair falling half-finger-combed around her face, his favorite red "Sekihoutai" shirt flopping down to her waist having been layered over her rumpled dress, a still-bleary Takani Megumi stared back at him artlessly.

_Naked Katsu,_ thought Sano urgently, _naked old Mrs. Erzinsky_...

Good enough to eat.

_tsuzuku

* * *

_

**A/N.** In terms of style, but I pray not of quality, this may or may not be what you're used to from me (if you've read my other stuff). But I hope it's fun all the same.

I am worried that I may run out of plot/story/timeline way, wayy ahead of running out of themes. (For this chapter: "introspection." For the previous chapter, "pain relief.") I still have a good three dozen themes and only a little less than a year to go. (_sweatdrop_) As a change from my previous multipart fics, I steadfastly refuse to think up an outline for this fic, and I really hope it doesn't suffer for that.

Lastly, I am enjoying tormenting Horny!Sano a wee bit too much. I think I need help... hee hee!


	8. Unresolved

**Over Him**

by Mirune Keishiko

* * *

_chapter eight_

**Unresolved**

She'd never really cared much for him before. Her heart belonged to Ken-san, she vowed. Sure, Sanosuke was a decent guy, really quite handsome when she thought about it, and entertaining enough when he bickered with her; the rough, brash, shiftless type she'd always warned herself to stay away from—a loudmouthed high school graduate who'd never bothered to go to college, who worked his woodscrafting business with just as much passion on his good days as procrastination on his bad days. The safety and security her sweet Ken-san promised contrasted starkly with the volatility that seemed to spark between her and Sanosuke all by itself.

The truth was, Sano frightened her. Quick and sharp, sharper than his blundering tongue let on, he had a way of looking at her with his dark eyes that seemed to sear through all the fronts she put on and made her defensive before she was aware of it. Ken-san wasn't like that at all—his gentle eyes respected the space she marked out around herself, accepted without comment the mask of coy, biting wit she always wore. With Ken-san she could go on pretending all she wanted. But Sanosuke and his cocky grin and his instinctively searching eyes appalled her with her own vulnerability.

And so she always lashed back, cutting him with words she knew she could use well and he couldn't, distracting him with her teasing. She felt relieved when he always took the bait she laid for him. She usually won, of course, and laughed her wicked laugh because she knew it would irritate him all the more; but the victory was always hollow, because the next time they met his glance was still so infuriatingly, effortlessly insightful, and she'd have to work to push him back beyond her boundaries all over again. It had been worn into a routine, the last two years.

But lately he'd been so unusually attentive to her. He'd actually sought her out once or twice, surprising her with a call on her cellphone on Friday nights—so _what_ if she just stayed at the dorm to study? It wasn't like people asked her out—taking her a few times to lunch or dinner, and even, once, to some sappy chick flick she couldn't bring herself to admit that she wanted to see. She'd quickly learned that he had a nasty habit of racking up tabs at his favorite restaurants, which always made for a good insult or two the next time they met. She'd learned more about him in the last couple of months than she had in the last couple of years, and in turn, she'd found herself opening up to him.

Oh, she'd tried avoiding him. She'd never been comfortable with men who acted suspiciously like suitors. But he'd been so damn persistent; he found ways of unexpectedly showing up and then melting away her defenses with those annoying glances and that insufferable smile and, occasionally, a bit of bait _he_ laid out for _her_, much to her consternation. And he never said anything, never brought up anything even remotely romantic or serious, and after a while she could almost believe that theirs was simply a fast-warming friendship and no more.

With him she joked and swore and argued ferociously. With him she found that she could let down her defenses—just a bit, just to relax a little more—and not regret it. He was kind and protective toward her, if in a far more gruff and subtle way than Ken-san. She knew, by now, that she could trust him. She could trust herself with him.

_Or, well..._

Standing on the last step of the spiral staircase that led down into the workshop, Megumi felt strangely paralyzed. Almost helplessly her gaze stayed on him—glided slowly and thirstily over Sano's half naked and silkily sculpted body, lingering on the sleek powerful muscles across his shoulders and down his arms, the proud tautness of his stomach. His navel was small and puckered inward; she wondered briefly how he would react if she were to lick him there, and something warm and urgent pulsed to life, deep within her belly, clutching at her breath.

Vaguely she realized that he, too, was staring at her without a word, his expression slightly glazed.

_Or maybe not._

_tsuzuku

* * *

_

**A/N.** I hope you enjoyed this chaper. For the first time in two or three days the poor old computer (whose motherboard I think needs to be replaced... or _some_thing!) worked, and I cranked out this update for the hell of it while I still could. I feel bad putting so much inner monologue so close together--the previous chapter and then this one--but I dunno, just let me know if it sucked. It's four AM and I don't trust myself to think straight anymore, I'm afraid. 

I don't know why this fic is turning out all lemon-scented. Maybe I've been hanging around AFFnet too long. _winces_

(theme: "windows of the soul")


	9. cold gray morning

**Over Him**

by Mirune Keishiko

* * *

_chapter nine_

**cold gray morning**

"Hey."

The whispered word fell into the silence like a raindrop into a puddle.

Sano grinned.

Finally, some attempt at normalcy.

"Hey." He wiped a hand across his sweat-beaded forehead and, embarrassed, cast about for his forgotten clothing. "Up already? You must feel like shit."

"I do." Megumi's low, wry voice cracked and she smiled sheepishly. "Hey," she said again, looking away while he struggled back into his shirt, "you want to go for breakfast?"

She must really be feeling out of sorts, Sanosuke concluded with a humor he was careful to hide from her, if she spoke so shyly.

_tsuzuku_

**

* * *

A/N.** Yoshaaa! Looks like I _did_ get to clear a hundred words after all! _beams_

This is, of course, just an infuriatingly short transition chapter. Man but it took me this long to figure out just how to break the stalemate. I actually toyed with the thought of simply skipping this oh-so-awkward get-both-their-minds-out-of-the-gutter moment, but... naahh. I owe you guys something after everything you've put up with. Hee!

I promise much longer future chapters (definitely longer than 100 words). Am still trying to determine how to balance my own need for this fic not to weigh on me too much and the length that is only right for each chapter to make sure I do the story justice.

Many, many thanks for all the feedback. I am extremely pleased to know that people are enjoying this!


	10. Denouement

**Over Him**

by Mirune Keishiko

* * *

_chapter ten_

**Denouement**

"You've never been here at dawn, have you?"

"What?" Flushing guiltily,Megumi whipped her head around. She scowled at the aghast look on Sanosuke's face—as though he couldn't for the life of him imagine a living human being who had never gone walking along the river at daybreak, as they were doing now. "W-what on earth gives you that idea?"

_Gently, _

_You touched my cheek_

_And I finally noticed how cold it was_

He chuckled, looking past and over her head to where she had been staring earlier—the eastern horizon, where the somnolent blue of the night sky was only just beginning to lighten. Rousing birdsong served to emphasize rather than break the early morning hush. "You haven't heard a single word I've said."

"That's not true! You were talking about… about…" Flipping her hair to try to hide her flushed cheeks, Megumi thought frantically. "Tae's niece Tsubame!" she said triumphantly.

Sano made a show of scratching his head, privately admiring her gamine grin and the glimmer of wakening sunlight on her soft hair. "Yeah, that's right." He waited for relief to flood her face, then, "Ten minutes ago!"

Megumi spluttered in frustration as he laughed out loud.

_Like suddenly noticing the sounds of birds for the first time_

_On waking up in the morning_

They had left the empty expanse of pavement for the green grass of the riverbank. Ducks were gathering by the side of the water some ways away, fat and ungainly, cleaning their feathers and quacking crossly among themselves. The glassy surface of the calm river reflected the neat row of lanterns along the bank, their yellow light piercing the gray predawn haze—until, one by one, they winked out, as though humbled by the day that was beginning.

Fascinated, Megumi watched until she remembered that she was supposed to be arguing with him.

"I have better things to do with my time than wander around at the crack of dawn in your sister's clothes," she ground out belatedly. _Like study,_ she thought morosely.

"Like study?" His tone, though teasing, was not wholly unsympathetic. At the deadly look in her narrowed eyes, he knew he had hit home.

_I don't know anything yet_

_What the heart is seeking_

Crunching through dew-sodden leaves in a togetherness far more companionable than they wanted to admit, they arrived at a solitary park bench, overhung by the spreading branches of a tree in the fullest blaze of autumn. Megumi wordlessly took the plastic bag of takeout from Sanosuke as he set about clearing fallen leaves from the bench. The dew he wiped off with the paper napkins they had brought.

_Like living the continuation of a dream_

"Did you get me blueberry?" Hungrily Megumi delved into the rustling bag and began sorting through the cardboard boxes inside.

"Would you have ever shut up if I didn't? –Yeeow!" Ruefully Sanosuke rubbed the ear she had painfully tweaked. _Okay, so I deserved that..._

"Just for that, I should eat your pigs-in-blankets," Megumi good-naturedly groused, handing him his share of breakfast, "if I didn't find them so morally and gastronomically objectionable."

"Gristle and fat and flavoring." Loudly smacking his lips with a satisfied, teasing smile as he opened his own box of pancakes, Sano noted the slightly ill look on Megumi's face. "Yum."

_I'm unpredictable, but love me anyway_

It had been a long, eventful night for both of them, and for several minutes there was no more talk as they attacked their still-hot food. Megumi finished her fluffy blueberry pancakes—she had to hand it to the guy, he knew where to get the city's best—as well as the extra serving of equally addictive cheese waffles he had insisted, over and against her protests, on buying too. When she caught Sano eyeing her with a knowing look—just as she swallowed the last bite of crusty, cheesy waffle—she stuck out her tongue at him like a seven-year-old, and he bit back his I-told-you-so in return for the beautiful picture she made: slightly mussed hair, pale face flushed with the satisfaction of a hot delicious breakfast, eyebrows usually imperiously arched now squinched together with her nose in childish annoyance.

_What color are the tears in the fountain of the heart?_

_What color is sorrow?_

When the food was done and disposed of, they sat together silently on the bench facing the fast-lightening sky; the distraction of eating gone, they were back to an uneasy truce—awkward though familiar, tense though comfortable. Sipping the last of her lemonade, Megumi carefully sat apart from him and noted, with relief and not a little disappointment, that he made no move to close the distance between them on the bench.

But the sunrise on the mirrorlike water, shared in the silence of a tentative friendship, was enough for now.

_The morning light enveloped our solitude just now_

_The moment you opened your eyes and smiled_

Fleecy clouds caught rosy flame, stars faded in the growing light. Megumi craned her neck in wordless delight to see the golden fingers of dawn touch the tops of blazing trees all along the riverbank, tangling in their branches. Bright sunrays were welcome warmth on her face, molten light in the thick grass at her feet. After a moment's hesitation, she shook off Misao's sandals—just one size too small—to thread her toes through the cool, damp grass, wondering at the contrasting heat of the growing sunshine, taking unfamiliar, untarnished pleasure in the alternating chill and warmth, the slide of grass blades against her soles.

_I was looking at nothing but the sky from the window_

_In the far distance, take me to just beneath those clouds_

"Thank you for bringing me here," she said softly, finally daring enough. This had been his idea.

There was no response. Startled, she looked over her shoulder at him.

He had fallen sound asleep, his head pillowed on an arm angled over the back of the bench.

_Gently touching_

_Gently, this cheek_

_Gently,_

_Gently._

_tsuzuku

* * *

_

**A/N.** I'm perfectly aware that FFnet has banned songfics. I haven't broken any rules here, I promise.


	11. Off Guard

**Over Him**

by Mirune Keishiko

* * *

_chapter eleven_

**Off Guard**

Heels clicking, long hair drifting in the wind, Megumi walked swiftly along the sidewalk, as though, she thought grimly, she were trying to outpace the doubts and uncertainties gnawing at her heart.

She'd never had to do any chasing before. She'd always been the one who waited for them to come to her—and she'd never waited in vain. She'd always been the one who was given gifts, who was chased down for dates, who had them clogging up her answering machine for weeks on end.

They'd always been the ones going after _her_ before.

...Well, except for Kenshin.

But not even Kenshin had filled her mind so constantly as Sano.

_This is stupid._ Megumi's free hand clenched into a fist in the sleeve of her coat. _He's going to laugh at me. He's going to think I'm easy. He's going to take me for granted. It's not like he _misses_ me… _

It had been three weeks since that sunrise on the riverbank; though she refused to let herself dwell on it, since then he had only called twice, and those times she could only afford a few minutes of small talk before she had to go back to work. The one time she had seen him since that morning was when they had run into each other at the grocery store a week ago, and then he'd seemed distracted and distant somehow, and he'd excused himself to leave soon afterward.

But not before he'd mentioned how much he hated the commercial canned type of cranberry sauce he was forced to buy for Thanksgiving. Megumi could still remember the wistful look in his long-lashed eyes as he rhapsodized over memories of his late mother's cranberry sauce.

Megumi cursed her inability to get him off her mind, but she had to admit she made damn good cranberry sauce, herself.

And she had to admit, she wanted to see the happy surprise on his face when he opened up her gift for him.

Still her heart was heavy as she rounded the corner to find the Akabeko already lively with a crowd of mostly men. Tae had decided to put up a huge TV display for the day's football games, and from the looks of it, the customers had come flocking. Megumi slowed to a halt in front of the entrance of the restaurant, gripping the handle of the heavy little paper bag tightly as she eyed the double doors, giving herself one last chance to change her mind.

_Well, I'm not about to eat all of this just by myself, either._

She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, squared her shoulders, and checked her reflection in the glass windows one last time before going in.

The noise and heat rushed her in an almost physical wave as the doors swung shut behind her, so sudden and overwhelming she had to stop and recollect herself. The restaurant was even more packed than it had seemed; males of every shape and size were swarming the bar and the tables, giving her appreciative looks that set her blushing despite herself. She wondered how Tae's niece Tsubame was faring—the shy girl helped out at the restaurant after school, and balked at serving the louder, noisier customers even on sane days. As Megumi made her way through the crowd, excited shouts and hoots echoed through the restaurant—apparently they were winning, whoever they were.

She rose on her tiptoes, tucking the paper bag with its heavy jar safely against her arm, and scanned the bustling scene for Sanosuke.

_There he is!_

A bubble of happy heat burst in her chest. He was grinning broadly and shouting something at the TV; as a runner wove his way across the broad green field on the screen, Sano leaped to his feet and joined the chant that was steadily gathering in the room. Megumi, pressing forward, couldn't help but admire his wide, enthusiastic smile as he turned his head to speak to a slip of a girl sitting on the armchair beside him—

—who jumped him in a wild embrace, shrieking triumphantly, as the runner made a touchdown and the whole restaurant erupted into cheers and yells.

Megumi stopped.

She was a beautiful little thing, huge oceanic eyes in a pale delicate face, a braid of raven hair snaking down her back, long graceful limbs bared for all the world to see in a tank top and cutoffs in the last wintry days of November.

Sano was hugging the girl back fiercely; then she was shouting something in his ear and he was laughing, answering back with his cocky, easy grin, his sparkling dark eyes...

Waves of heat and jubilant noise surrounded Megumi, relentless and mocking, stealing at her breath, muddying her mind.

And she spun on her heel and left, almost as quickly as she'd come, stopping only to entrust her paper bag to Tsubame behind the bar. Because she did, after all, make it for him; because she'd have to dump the sauce down the sink otherwise and people were starving in Africa; and there were worse ways to end such almost-relationships, she supposed, gritting her teeth against the tears.

That night Sano ended up giving his cans of cranberry sauce away to the homeless man on the corner. His sister Misao refused to eat anything but the stuff in the jar, and he could only laugh.

_tsuzuku_

_

* * *

_

No, the story isn't over yet. _crosses fingers_ I've just been really busy with school, but now that summer break is coming (well, what I've got of it), I hope to get back into the fun of writing this fic. Thanks so much for your patience. There's plenty yet to come. Ü


	12. Insubordination

**Over Him**

by Mirune Keishiko

* * *

_chapter twelve_

**Insubordination**

Gray midday settled into drab afternoon; and as more and more of the hospital staff left to enjoy the Christmas holidays with their families and friends, the skeleton crew that remained clustered at the reception desk. They chattered amiably as they set about their duties—save for one, however, who kept to himself as always and politely, if rather stiffly, declined the cheerful offer of a shared late lunch.

He went to considerable lengths to suggest that Megumi take the evening off, especially since she wasn't even among those assigned to the holiday shift in the first place. Megumi insisted on staying, and when she headed back to the nurses' desk she found cryptic smiles and speculative glances giving her a warm welcome.

"That guy's just full of surprises!"

"I think he's really interested in you, Megs."

"As much as that icicle could be interested in anybody."

"Yeah, you should probably go take in some coffee to him or something..."

"Silly, you know he only takes tea!"

"You guys!" hissed Megumi, half embarrassed, half playful. She ducked her head lower toward the giggling nurses gathered at the desk, shooting a glance down the hall to where the door had just shut on the delectable behind of Dr. Shinomori. "He's got the senses of a freakin' ninja! He's going to hear you!"

"You know, I think this must be the third time he'll be spending Christmas at the hospital," thoughtfully continued Christine, one of the junior interns, as if Megumi had never said anything.

"Fourth," corrected a senior intern absent-mindedly from where she stood at the far end of the desk, sifting through paperwork, "if you count the one year he missed. But only—"

"—because he had to do emergency surgery in the next state," finished Cherie, rolling her eyes. "Yes, Hitomi, we know."

The intern smirked. "Well, he is, after all, one of the best neurosurgeons in the country."

"And the hottest," murmured Leila with a toss of her dark curls, to wide agreement.

"Doesn't he have a family?" Megumi looked up curiously from the records she was reading.

"He was adopted," said Sheryl, the head nurse, walking up with a fresh mug of hot chocolate, "by this childless Japanese couple named the Makimachis. But they both died in an accident when he was in college, and he's been pretty rootless ever since."

Those to whom this was new information raised their eyebrows and mewled concern; Hitomi grinned at Megumi's impressed look. "That's Sheryl for you—she really does her homework."

"Which doesn't mean this isn't an extremely sad and twisted obsession as it is." Sheryl laughed.

But then, thought Megumi impishly as she went through her rounds some time later, who wouldn't be obsessed with such a man as Aoshi Shinomori? Still in his mid-thirties, but looking ten years younger, the young and brilliant doctor cut an imposing figure, as much for his reputation for pioneering medical work as for the tall, well-muscled physique and cool, clean good looks that had feminine hearts melting wherever he went—students, patients, and colleagues alike.

He had been her teacher in two classes before, and had found her performance worthy enough of a few comments in private conversation between them—in an entirely professional tone, of course. When Megumi came to the hospital for her training some months earlier, he seemed to have taken it upon himself to mentor her. Many envied her for having become one of the very few with whom the doctor deigned to share his work; he was an intensely private man, and was notorious for preferring to conduct his research and even his most intensive surgeries all on his own. That he entrusted to her some of his most delicate lab work and even allowed her to assist him in his practice was a fact that won Megumi much admiration and respect.

She told herself she was honored to be noticed by such an admirable man, she knew that the experience she was gaining was priceless; and yet, sometimes, under the frosty gaze of those crystal blue eyes she found her heart threatening to go the way of countless others before—namely, dissolving in a quivering puddle of warm, happy goo.

"The report you requested, sir," she said briskly, entering his office when he assented to her knocking.

He looked up as she placed the folder on the side of his desk. Standing expectantly in front of him, Megumi had a sudden mental image of herself thrusting aside the neat stack of journal articles he was apparently perusing, plucking away those damned sexy wire-rimmed glasses that hid his ice-blue eyes from sight, and seducing him on top of his own desk—

She blinked. She was hanging around the girls too much.

"Thank you, Takani." Dr. Shinomori picked up the folder, gave its contents a cursory glance, and set it aside. Megumi suppressed the impulse to fidget under his cool stare. "I've been thinking on the results of the latest experiments, and I've changed my mind. I'm strongly recommending that you leave for your break immediately, because we've got our work cut out for us once the holidays are over."

For a moment, Megumi was at a loss. His tone of voice suggested she obey meekly—and the hierarchy of command in the hospital was very clear to her and to everyone who took part in it. Dr. Shinomori was not one to be disobeyed. Still, she was startled at the sudden order.

"Any particular protest you wish to put up, Takani?"

"No, sir, of course not," replied Megumi automatically, even as she realized that his voice seemed just a shade less brusque and chill than usual. "I'll report back in a few days, then."

He made no response, merely went back to his journal clippings; but just as Megumi put her hand on the doorknob, he said, voice rumbling low in his throat, "You should get some rest, Takani. You've earned it."

"Yes, sir," said Megumi politely, and left.

He was the type who seemed to know so many things from just a few searching glances, and as she walked down the hall Megumi suspected he already knew that she had nothing in particular to look forward to during the break, no one in particular she would spend the holidays with—

"Oei, Megitsune! Hurry on up, will ya? There's a blizzard comin' on, and we've got some drivin' to do!"

Shocked, Megumi stared down the length of the corridor at the tall, spiky-haired young man lounging casually against the far wall. He grinned at her sheepishly—a young man she hadn't seen in a month, a young man apparently totally oblivious to the fact that she'd been doggedly avoiding him in all that time and was, thankfully, beginning to forget to remember at last.

Maybe she _would_ disobey a direct order after all.

_tsuzuku

* * *

_

The plot thickens? And obviously, I have next to no idea how the whole medical education thing works at all...

The cameo roles are for the first few of the many wonderful MegAoshi ladies I've been honored to meet. Hee.

Hope you liked.


	13. Hit and Miss

**Over Him**

by Mirune Keishiko

* * *

_chapter thirteen_

**Hit and Miss**

"W-what the hell are you doing here?"

She'd pulled him aside, into a corner that would help screen them from inquisitive eyes and ears. Sanosuke stared down at her, thrusting his hand through his already-disheveled hair, his expression of complete, innocent surprise—and gathering consternation—compounding her own initial anger with confusion.

"You didn't get my messages?"

"What messages?" Megumi snapped.

"The messages! I left it in your voice mail! Since last week—" Sano cut himself off as Megumi abruptly turned away, rubbing the bridge of her nose wearily. "You weren't answering any of my calls, so I figured you were busy, so—"

"I haven't really been checking my voice mail." _Not the messages from you, anyway._ Torn between annoyance and grudging embarrassment, Megumi folded her arms across her chest. "What did you say?"

Sano exhaled, shoved his hands deep into his pockets. He looked anywhere but at her; yet as soon as Megumi glanced away from him she felt those unnervingly intense brown eyes focused once more upon her face. "I asked if you wanted to spend Christmas with my folks and me, and that if you were okay with it you didn't have to tell me, since I was sure you'd be too busy to make a return call, and I'd just stop by to pick you up on the twenty-third... What?" he asked irritably, as Megumi gave a short, rueful laugh.

"You really asked me that?" she said, her voice now much softer, her eyes not quite meeting his. "I'm sorry, toriatama, that's sweet of you but I've got a lot to do..."

"Last time I heard, even workaholic overachieving med students got Christmas break."

The silence that followed his teasing reply hung heavy between them; Megumi suddenly thought she spotted split ends in her hair, as Sano's grin twisted into a far less pleasant expression.

Finally he looked away, made to push past her out into the corridor. "Y'know, if you'd really rather not, you could just spit it out. I'm not going to eat you."

_Long braid as lithe and sensuous as her body—_

"I can't." He paused. Megumi clutched her clipboard in front of her, an unconsciously brandished shield. "I'm sorry."

_Fragile and tiny, and vibrant as the leaping ocean on a summer's day—_

"It's not a problem." He spoke breezily, without turning to face her. "Don't worry about it."

The lightness in his tone hurt more than Megumi liked to admit. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, to hide the rosy sting in her cheeks. "All right."

Then, as he strode oh so slowly away, _this wishful thinking will be the death of me, I'm sure of it_—

"I'm sure your girlfriend wouldn't want me coming along, anyway."

He spun around in record time, eyes wide in a frank amazement that almost made Megumi laugh. "What?"

"Your girlfriend," said Megumi archly. Regaining some of her customary coyness—really, when had she lost it? She really needed to get a grip on herself around this guy—she walked past him without a backward glance, long hair riffling slightly in the wake of her passing, hips graceful in their natural sway. "I'm sure she'll want to keep her man all to herself and won't appreciate creatures like me stealing away the attention—"

"Hey wait, wait, wait, wait." Sano deftly stepped in front of her, blocking her way. She glanced away as he glowered at her. "Where the hell did you get that idea?"

"Oops! Was it supposed to be a secret?" Megumi lifted her hand to her mouth in mock horror. "Don't worry, it's safe with me!"

Winking conspiratorially, she made to walk around him—but he grabbed her wrist and dragged her to a stop.

"This is getting really tiring, Megitsune..."

"Well, don't do me any great favors, toriatama." Megumi snatched back her arm; his grip was loose and easy to break. "Who put you up to this, anyway? Kenshin?"

The guilty way he eyed the ceiling confirmed her suspicions. Megumi rolled her eyes. "This won't be the first Christmas I've spent on my own, toriatama. There's no need to suddenly turn me into a charity case. You've made your offer, I've declined it. You've done your good deed. Santa's not getting you coal this year." Her voice rose a notch, unconsciously, as Sano frowned. "I'll be fine. Thanks for your concern. But I don't need it."

_Not if I'll just be reminded of something I want but can't have._ Again, Megumi moved to walk past him.

Again, he blocked her.

"What is your problem, Megitsune?"

The harsh intimacy in his voice—low, frustrated, urgent—caught her off guard. She had been expecting an outburst. She stood there, stunned.

"Why do you keep pushing people away like this? You don't have to be so alone—but why won't you give anybody a chance? Why won't you give _yourself_ a chance?"

He spoke in hushed tones, ducked his head low to hers so that she could hear him; his breath was hot against her cheek.

"And by the way"—his tone turned wry—"I have no idea where you got that crazy idea, but I don't have a girlfriend. A hyperactive weasel of a little sister, maybe, but no girlfriend." He turned. "I guess I'll see you next year, then."

It was he who walked away, this time.

_tsuzuku

* * *

_

This is my attempt at writing faster dialogue--fewer monologues and less narrative blithering, and less of all those other vices my usual writing seems to be burdened with. I hope it came out okay... _koff_review!_koff_


	14. Giving Way

**Over Him**

by Mirune Keishiko

* * *

_chapter fourteen_

**Giving Way**

As darkness fell, so did the first few silvery flakes of snow. Sanosuke cursed and glanced at his watch. His sense of obligation to wait had been only grudgingly indulged in the first place, and now a sense of urgency was growing to take its place. _If she's not here in two minutes..._

And at that moment, Megumi rounded the corner of the far building, booted steps brisk on the cemented footpath. Her plaid coat was tied tightly around her; two huge paper bags crowded her arms—she seemed to be trying to shield their contents from the drifting snow, and failing utterly—and almost hid her face from sight.

_How does she get to eat all that shit and stay so damn se— _ But Sano firmly clamped down on that runaway thought as he got out of his car and went to meet her.

"Thanks," said Megumi breathlessly as he took the bags from her without a word. "I just live in the dorm across the..."

She looked up at him then and stopped abruptly, eyes wide.

After a frozen moment, Sanosuke had to tear his own gaze away.

Her cheeks and nose were flushed from the cold, her long hair slightly mussed from underneath her little woolen hat and framing her delicate face in silky wisps. In her surprise her mouth had fallen adorably open, her rosy lips parted just enough for the space of a worshipful kiss—

"Damn, Megitsune, but you sure are a pig." Sanosuke averted his gaze, on the pretext of picking his way up the steps to the entrance. _What am I supposed to say? 'Damn, you're so hot I totally forgot to stay mad at you'?_ "Not even I eat this much for Christmas."

"I'm not _going_ to eat all that, you idiot! It's for the orphanage and... and what the hell are you doing here anyway?" Dimly Megumi realized that this was the second time that afternoon she'd asked him that question. She followed him up the steps into the deserted lobby, its heat welcome after the chill outside.

He nodded toward the stairway over the bulging bags in his arms, prompting her to go ahead of him. "Waiting for you. Took ya long enough. If you hurry up and get your stuff down in ten minutes we might still outrace the blizzard."

"What the— Blizzard—! But I'm not—" And Megumi realized, to her chagrin, that he'd already managed to herd her up the stairs to the door to her room. Gritting her teeth, determined to stand her ground, she stuffed back the keys she had absent-mindedly withdrawn from her pocket and whirled upon him.

"You really are a stupid, stubborn, arrogant bonehead, aren't you! I told you I wasn't coming—"

"You gonna unlock that door or am I gonna have to kick it down?"

From the grim look on Sanosuke's face and the well-practiced way he braced himself on his long legs, Megumi had a sudden, terrifying vision of him making good on his threat. Hastily she unlocked the door and pushed it open.

He strode in without pause, made straight for the kitchen area, and set down the paper bags on the counter. Megumi followed him, her voice deliberately pitched low, yet shot through with palpable agitation.

"Toriatama, I'm really touched that you waited for me so long and that you even thought to offer this in the first place, but I told you, I'm fine and I don't want you or Kenshin or anyone worrying about me—"

"One last chance." His eyes were dark and unreadable as he turned to her. Unconsciously, Megumi took a step back before his adamant stare. "I know my family ain't what you're used to, and it's not gonna be anything fancy like you grew up with. But I think even it will be better than this"—he swept out his arm to indicate the deathly silent dorm—"my little sister makes enough noise for five people, and it's just two days. We'll be back on the twenty-sixth." Megumi bit her lip beneath his unyielding gaze, feeling irritation rise to warm her chilled cheeks. "Now I'm gonna go back down and wait another ten minutes, and you can stay here, or you can come with me. And if you stay, then I'm sorry I got in your face, and we'll never talk about this again. But if you come with me—"

He broke off at that, his eyes burning into her with a hard, bright light that caught at her breath, stole away her voice from deep in her throat.

Then he turned away and made for the door, and Megumi remembered to breathe. As he placed his hand on the doorknob he paused.

"Do it for Kenshin," he said in the same flat, brittle tone, without looking over his shoulder at her. "He really wanted to make sure you weren't by yourself at Christmas."

Whether at the sound of that well-beloved name, or at the near-bitterness with which it was spoken, Megumi couldn't tell—but something in her tightened unpleasantly at his words, and clenched even more unhappily at the slam of the door behind him.

* * *

Ten minutes later, loudly cursing the thickening snow that drifted across his windshield, Sano had just started up his car again when a flurry of tapping came at the other window. 

"Ten minutes," huffed Megumi as she tossed her fat bags in the back, "are _so_ not enough for a girl to pack, toriatama."

"Did you raid the hospital's supply room or something?" He bit back his grin as she seated herself gracefully beside him and shut the door. "For pete's sake, woman, it's not like we live in a fucking cave."

He groaned inwardly as her eyebrows shot up. "Really now! My goodness, I could've sworn—"

"Aww, man!" The car zoomed out of the driveway with a roar of its battered engine. "Don't tell me I'm enduring seven hours of this..."

"Oh, and just _what_ do you mean by _that_, Mister Congeniality!"

"So _that's_ what all this food is for—to stuff in your big mouth! Open wide now, Megitsune..."

"Why you bird-brained, smug-faced little...!"

_tsuzuku_

_

* * *

_

Am extremely grateful to and happy about all those who have read and reviewed! Please be so kind as to tell me if the quality has dropped; I'm trying to just purely have fun with this story, but I _am_ a worrywart and I keep wondering whether I've become too careless already. I hope you are all still, also having fun with this story.

I have quite a few plans for the next few chapters and am having quite a time practising restraint in keeping the installments light and short. Hee. Stay tuned for the next updates!


	15. a whisper of a dream

**Over Him**

by Mirune Keishiko

* * *

_chapter fifteen_

**whisper of a dream**

Megumi had tied back the curtains at the window, and through the panes he mutely watched the flurries of snow skating past, seeming to glow ghostly pale against the drab darkness of the night.

Of course, the blizzard had caught up with them.

Of course, the motels on the highway had been full up with similarly stranded travelers. So of course, it had taken them a while before they finally found one with a vacancy.

And of course, said vacancy was a single room with a single queen-sized bed and not so much else as a couch.

And then, of course, _of course,_ thought Sanosuke wryly, the power had _had_ to go out in the middle of the night because of the storm, and the motel's old generator could barely light the storm lamps outside in the parking lot, let alone the dilapidated heater in their room.

And though he would never admit it if it were torn out of him by wild horses, the floor on which he was lying—carpeted meagerly as it was—was getting pretty damn cold.

He shifted restlessly on the floor and futilely rearranged his jacket, which he'd laid out beneath him as some form of sheet. Wide awake, he stared up at the shadowed ceiling and listened to Megumi's soft, even breathing.

_Well, at least she's sleeping fine._ Megumi had been extremely tired. She hadn't even put up much of a fight when he insisted that she take the bed and he the floor. After everything else she'd endured with him today—four solid and increasingly anxious hours in his cramped old car, the series of disappointments at the motels along the way, plus all their usual bickering—Sano knew he'd never forgive himself if she weren't...

"Toriatama?"

Sano winced. "Yeah?"

"I don't think the heater's working. Come up here and share the bed."

"Nah, I'm fine." The fuzz in her sleep-heavy voice was doing wonders enough against the chill, he decided. Not to mention the mental images suddenly conjured up by her suggestion. "It's not that cold."

"Bonehead. I'm _in_ the bed already, and _I'm_ starting to shiver."

That, of course, got him up. "I'm used to this. Here, you can use my jacket—"

"Will you shut up already with the macho act?" As Sanosuke came nearer, he saw that Megumi was curled up in a ball beneath the blanket. She sat up, eyeing him testily through a tangle of black hair that still managed to glimmer mesmerizingly in the dim light. "I'm already the one asking you to share, so it's not like I don't trust you. Or rather"—she grinned at him blearily—"it's not like I won't give you hell if you even think of laying a finger on me."

Silkily untamed hair, sleep-smoky voice, delicate face seemingly incandescent in the shadows—Sanosuke couldn't help cursing the willingness with which he silently complied, lifting the blankets just enough for him to fold his long legs into the tiny space beneath and slide into the plentiful room she'd left him on the bed.

A bed she'd warmed very, very well with her body heat. Sano thanked the cosmos for the darkness that hid his flushed cheeks. He lay flat, limbs rigid, staring straight up at the ceiling, hardly daring to move for fear he'd somehow touch her and... cause Terrible Things to happen.

For a moment all was silent again.

Sano didn't even realize till then that he'd been holding his breath.

And that her hair smelled so delicious he thought he'd go crazy maintaining the generous space that remained between them.

"Now you've woken me up." Sano started; he thought she'd fallen back asleep. But her tone was more amused than genuinely irritated. "If you hadn't been such a stubborn idiot..."

"I was totally fine on that floor," he retorted under his breath.

"You'd have totally gotten pneumonia. And I'd hate to have to drive your sorry machismo-loving ass to a hospital in this snow."

"Yeah, well I'm not the one shivering now, am I?"

She made no response, and Sanosuke could have bitten off his own tongue in remorse. For though she had his back to him and the darkness all but claimed her from his sight, the sheets and the bed which he now shared with her made it painfully clear to him just how much she was suffering.

"Sometimes, Megitsune, I think you're almost more macho than I am."

Was that a most unmanly choke in his voice?

Megumi was silent and unmoving even when he touched her, hesitantly, on her shoulder; almost cringing in anticipation of her vicious slap, he grasped her sweater-covered arm, at first lightly, then more firmly, as he tugged her gently toward him.

He was more astonished than anything else when she wordlessly submitted to his gesture. Turning toward him, not meeting his gaze, she curled closer to him, the scent of her hair washing over him in rich waves as she did; somewhat emboldened, he put an arm around her back to scoot nearer to her, curving his body protectively around her to create, as best he could, a cocoon of warmth.

He laughed softly, uneasily. "I showered, you know."

"I know." Her voice was subdued, her chuckle unsteady. "So did I."

_I know._

This close to her, he caught the scent of her skin as well—something unfamiliar, yet light and creamy and subtly sweet.

Another pause.

"I'm sorry."

Both stared at each other, startled; both had broken the hush, and both now glanced hastily away.

Megumi spoke first, tone thick with an unaccustomed shyness. "If I hadn't made you wait so long, we would've stayed ahead of the storm."

Sano rubbed the back of his head. "And if I'd just made sure you got my messages, you wouldn't have taken so long to decide."

"Oh, I don't know." Megumi seemed to be hiding her face in her hair; he wondered if she were blushing. "I was kind of... ignoring your messages actually."

_That_ had been unexpected. He paused, unsure how to respond.

"I mean—it wasn't your fault—it was just—" And Megumi's words tumbled over themselves as she haltingly explained, told him how strange it had been for him not to contact her for so long, how she'd started to wonder, how she'd found him at the Akabeko the time she made that blasted cranberry sauce—

"Hold on, hold on," interrupted Sano. He frowned incredulously down at Megumi, who arched a defiant eyebrow at him. "You thought Misao was my _girl_f—"

"She _jumped_ you!" Her furious whisper pierced the silence. She scowled. "How was I supposed to know?"

Sano laughed out loud. So _that_ explained her actions in the hospital. "Crazy fox," he muttered, trying to ignore momentarily the note in his voice that could possibly be called fondness. "You're too quick for your own good, sometimes."

She sniffed, but said nothing; and Sano wondered if it were just his imagination that she settled just a teeny bit closer to him—

"Sanosuke!" she hissed. "Your feet are like ice! You _were_ cold and you just weren't saying anything, were you!"

It was clearly more of a declarative sentence than any question, so Sano didn't feel the need to reply. The mere fact that she'd used his real name for once, and not any of her perverse nicknames for him, was more than enough to silence him; and when a very warm, very fragrant Megumi briskly cuddled up to him, huffing indignantly as she tucked the sheets around their bodies, he found absolutely no reason to contest her point.

He agreed with her so wholeheartedly, in fact—felt his entire being suddenly consumed with an amazingly otherworldly sensation of agreeableness—that it was hardly with a conscious thought that he wrapped his long arms around her and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

_tsuzuku

* * *

_

Thank you, as always, for the feedback. Happy readers make for a happy shiko-chan. The constructive reviews are also very much appreciated! I don't know if this is quite the "intense passion" you were looking for, **paris**-dono, but rest assured I really have some fun rompage intended for these two... somehow... eventually. Hee.

I feel that special kudos are due to dearest **Crewel**-chan, who is probably one of the most devoted, if not _the_ devoted, SanoMegumi fan in this domain. Here's lookin' at you, kid. I'm sure a lot of SanoMegumi writers feel much the same!

Took some work before I got this chapter somewhat to my liking, hence the slight delay, for which I apologize. Man, this is too good an excuse for me to not study. Guh.

Oh, and if anyone can tell me just where and how "whisper of a dream" originated, I'd be very grateful! It's one of those things that just sort of pop up in your head and you haven't the faintest idea where it came from...


	16. Sunlight

Limey hints. Scaryscary.

* * *

**Over Him**

by Mirune Keishiko

* * *

_chapter sixteen_

**Sunlight**

After a kiss like that, so heavy with meaning for all it felt so light upon her hair, a woman really couldn't be expected to pretend like nothing had ever happened. She remembered the half-guilty, half-apprehensive look in his dark eyes when she'd frozen beneath his lips and glanced up at him in surprise.

Just the same—looking back at the situation now, as she pillowed her cheek on her hand and watched him snore beside her—she had caught even herself off guard, the enthusiasm with which she had suddenly moved up and met his mouth with hers.

She had wanted him just as badly as he'd wanted her.

Megumi still wasn't quite sure what to make of that.

She briefly considered going out to find a vending machine with cigarettes, but scowled and pushed the idea away, snuggling deeper into the sheets and closer to the sleeping man beside her as if to insulate herself further from the thought. Besides, she only ever smoked when she was having man trouble.

Didn't she?

As if aware of her scrutiny, Sanosuke's breathing grew shallower, quieter; and finally one brown eye cracked blearily open. Megumi met its gaze frankly.

"Up already, kitsune?"

"Mmm." She found that his voice made for a pleasant thrum against her cheek, if she rested her head on his broad chest. His skin was rich satin beneath her fingertips. "I guess I wasn't that tired."

"That's gotta be the worst morning-after insult I've ever heard." He chuckled, and after a moment she laughed softly back, tickled by the ripples of movement through his muscles.

She said nothing in response, however, and he settled back against his pillow, his eyes shut. She thought he'd fallen asleep; but then he opened his eyes again with a sigh and stared out the window.

"Still snowing, huh."

"Not as bad as last night, though. We should be able to leave by midafternoon."

"Power back?"

"Yes, the heater's working properly again."

"Are you"—she hadn't expected to find the catch in his voice so endearing—"regretting anything?"

She lowered her gaze before his, traced slow, fascinated lines along the curves of his well-muscled arm for many wordless moments.

Then, "I don't believe in regrets," she said quietly, and brought his palm up to brush a kiss against its center.

Despite the telltale hitch in his breathing that meant he was responding to her, Sano was still watching her dubiously when she moved up to touch her lips to his.

"That wasn't really an answer to my question, was it?" murmured Sanosuke into her ear some time later, as they lay tangled together in the now-ravaged bed.

Her face hidden in tousled hair, Megumi shut her eyes against the growing gray daylight and pretended to have fallen asleep.

_tsuzuku

* * *

_

Guh. So sorry for the long wait. I banished myself from FFnet till the very last of my exams was over, and then I got caught up in other stuff. _sheepishly pokes at Victorian Romance Emma fanfic_

Many thanks to all who have read and reviewed. I'm happy to be of service. Special thanks to DemonSlayer205, who caught a really very silly error of mine in the previous chapter. Always great to have a sharp-eyed audience! Hee. Feedback, as always, much appreciated!


	17. Pulling Punches

**Over Him**

by Mirune Keishiko

* * *

**chapter seventeen**

_Pulling Punches_

The door had hardly shut behind her when his mouth was on hers, soft and warm and hungry and sparking an answering hunger in her despite herself. He threaded his fingers through her hair and slanted her face upward—the better, she realized with a shudder, to tease her tongue with his. He freed one hand from the silken tangle of her hair to tug impatiently at the belt tying her coat shut. When her heavy coat gaped around her, the same hand snaked deftly up beneath her blouse, tracing a trail that had become very familiar indeed over the past few weeks; and Megumi, tearing her mouth free at last, managed to gasp out "Wait!" just as strong, insistent fingers burned into her soft skin.

"For what? You know the door locks when it closes." Sanosuke waggled his eyebrows with an exaggerated leer.

She allowed him another moment's kiss before pushing him away. "Toriatama"—she smiled indulgently up at him, riffled his perenially untamed hair—"I've got tons of reading to catch up on, and I only came by to drop this off." She pushed the rather squashed and forgotten paper bag in her arms at him.

A grin lit up his face as he delved eagerly into the bag, Megumi watching him in amusement. "All right—Tae's sukiyaki! She put in that anko stuff I love, too!" He looked up at her, the gleam back in his dark eyes. "I'll let you lick it off me if you want dessert," and he waggled his eyebrows again. Megumi laughed out loud.

"You say that like it's a good thing. Thanks, but I'll pass." Smoothening her hair, she drew her coat tightly around her once again and retied the belt. "Enjoy dinner. I'll call you."

"Aww, c'mon." His arm had gone around her waist before she quite realized it and he pulled her closer, burying his nose in her snow-damp hair and trying to nudge her woolen cap off her head. "It's cold out. You brought your homework. Spend the night."

Megumi shivered, more from the moist heat his lightning-quick tongue traced down the rim of her ear than any remembered chill from the frosty evening outside. She pushed half-heartedly at the arm that trapped her against him. "Sanosuke..."

"You could catch a cold, y'know. You don't want that." The paper bag of food was tossed carelessly onto the couch. He pushed aside the curtain of hair falling down her back and nuzzled the cold skin on the back of her neck with deliberate languor. When his tongue flicked out to anoint the little nubs of her spine she gasped; he smiled in irrepressible masculine satisfaction. "You should take off these damp clothes... Let me warm you up nice and toasty—"

"Toriatama!" Her voice was strangled, but firm just the same. Abruptly she twisted out of his gentle hold and half-turned to face him, her cap askew, her cheeks brilliantly flushed. "I told you, I just don't have the time tonight—"

"You haven't 'had the time' in a month," retorted Sano, the simmering in his blood quickly turning to a different heat. "It's Friday, for pete's sake, Megitsune. Or don't weekends exist in your dimension anymore?"

She shot him a tired look. "Toriatama, I've already explained to you—I still haven't made up for when we got snowbound over the holidays, and then school piled up precisely _because_ I slept over when we got back, and"—she hesitated, near-imperceptibly; her voice sank to a mutter—"I never get any work done when you're around."

At his answering grin and the wordless "Is that _my_ fault?" arch of his eyebrow, she spun on her heel and made for the door, her cheeks aflame. "I need some time to myself, that's all," she said crossly. "Is that too much to ask?"

He said nothing, didn't move from his position only a few feet away, staring fixedly at nothing; and lifting her chin proudly, Megumi stepped through the doorway.

"Hang on." His voice was rough, weary. "Snow's gotten worse. I'll drive you home."

_tsuzuku_

_

* * *

_

This is the most unpredictable story I've ever handled--not that I've handled a whole lot yet--and that's contributed to the long delay in posting this update. (I'm as much in the dark as anyone as to what's to come next!) I also apologize for the shortness; I'm trying to strike a balance between not-too-short and risking writing myself into a corner. Thank you for all your patience and attention!

The usual applies: Please let me know kindly if there are any improvements to be made. Again, my thanks! And let's hope the next installment doesn't take as long...


	18. Compromise

**Over Him**

by Mirune Keishiko

* * *

_chapter eighteen_

**Compromise**

It was normally about a half hour's drive across town from Sanosuke's apartment building to Megumi's dorm, but the snow and the usual Friday night traffic made it even slower going. Megumi leaned her hot forehead against the cool windowpane, stared out at the passersby running to and fro with their white-dusted umbrellas, and silently dreaded the heavy silence that had fallen in the car.

Well, it would have been silence, if Sano hadn't taken to loudly cursing and hitting his battered car's similarly battered radio. It had eaten one of his treasured old cassette tapes. Due to Sanosuke's repeated attempts to extricate the thing, a wretched jumble of glistening magnetic ribbon trailed from the maw of the tape deck like regurgitated black pasta.

After a few more minutes of fruitless invective from the man beside her, Megumi felt the need to intervene.

"Toriatama, will you let it go," she snapped. "I really don't think yelling it into submission is a feasible plan."

"Works for you with me, doesn't it?"

She whipped around to pin him with a stare. "And what the hell is that supposed to mean?" He'd said it under his breath, but she couldn't very well let it pass.

"I dunno, you're obviously the smart one around here so _you_ tell _me!"_

He turned shadowed eyes upon her with the last three words. The traffic was at a standstill, but his fingers were locked around the steering wheel.

Megumi gritted her teeth. "This isn't the time or place for your insecurities, toriatama."

He looked frankly astonished as well as angry. "Kitsune, I just wish we could spend more time together, that's all!"

"It's not that easy!" She clenched her hands into fists before she could do something violent with them. "You can't just demand that I put you above school, toriatama. Do you even know how much it's cost me to fit you into—" She stopped, appalled.

The traffic began to move; Megumi clutched at her seatbelt in sudden fright as the car lurched forward. "Geez, I'm so honored, kitsune," bit out Sanosuke, hunkering forward over the steering wheel with a hard light in his eyes, "that you've gone so far out of your way for a loser like me."

"Don't be so dramatic, you idiot." Her attempt at a humorous tone turned inadvertently into scorn. Now that they were free of downtown traffic and climbing toward the bridge over the river, Sanosuke was accelerating dangerously; with a deep, slow breath, Megumi reminded herself to keep calm. "Med school is just really important to me," she said quietly, "my internship's started to pile up, and there are just so many expectations—"

"And there just isn't room for some schmuck on the list, is there?"

With a sigh she lapsed into silence, staring out the window. The car had slowed to a less fearsome speed on the snow-covered road.

"We can—you know—every week..." She wished she wouldn't stutter like a teenager. She was going to be reasonable about this, she told herself firmly. She was going to compromise—wasn't that what couples did all the time? She stared down at her hands where they fidgeted, most uncharacteristically, in her lap. "I—you know—we can do quickies..."

"Don't say that." He didn't look at her, was still staring straight ahead over the wheel, his mouth set in a hard line. "You think that's all I want? You think that's all I'm after?"

She looked up at him, startled. Sparing her a glance, he smiled without mirth.

"God, you really think I'm a fuckin' bottom-dweller, don'tcha?"

The cold windowpane was heaven-sent to her burning face.

"I gotta ask you, kitsune, would you have thought the same thing of Kenshin?"

Megumi froze. He'd caught her there. The teasing tone of his voice twisted it into something dark and hurtful; shame felt seared into her heart as indelibly as the blood in her cheeks.

"Kenshin would be beyond that," she muttered, ignoring the unease in her gut. "Kenshin would never ask for something I wasn't already giving."

They lurched to a stop. Through teary eyes, Megumi looked up out the window at her dorm.

"Well, don't let me keep you another minute," drawled Sanosuke.

She practically fled.

_tsuzuku

* * *

_

I am beginning to understand just why most romances aim precisely only to get the couple together, and end after that. _sweatdrop_

Megumi and Sano at their not-so-prettiest with each other is, I am quickly discovering, quite the challenge to write. I hope I have somehow risen to the task...

Thank you so much for reading!


	19. Head Straight

**Over Him**

by Mirune Keishiko

* * *

_chapter nineteen_

**Head Straight**

It was a busy month for any intern, and on top of everything else Dr. Shinomori's research was getting more intensive than ever. What few hours Megumi had left over from her regular duties, she spent either at the library or in his laboratory, under his watchful eye. Constantly exhausted despite the undeniable satisfaction she took in her work, she found that she had precious little enough time to rest, let alone smoothe the ruffled feathers of a tempestuous roosterhead.

After the first tear-filled night, she had promised herself she would fix things with Sanosuke; she would make time for him and they would talk it through like civilized people—at least before they finally decided to call it quits, she thought grimly. But the plan was soon buried under reports to write, patients to check, shifts to sleepwalk through, and she flatly refused to let her emotions dictate her already hectic schedule. She would have the time to call him later, maybe, she told herself; she could stop by his apartment, bring him food as a peace offering... once the day was done, once she finished those research papers...

Before she knew it, it had been weeks since the fight in the car, and she had heard nothing from him.

She realized, belatedly—the surprise stopping her in the middle of dyeing some samples—that it hurt. And that she had been waiting for _him_ to get in touch with her. After all, _he_ was the one who had all the free time, wasn't he? But the logic failed to reassure her.

One morning, as she lay cocooned in her blankets in that listless haze between waking and dreaming, she jolted awake in wordless shock.

He was cutting off her panicked calls. The payphone in the lobby wasn't working again. She raced to get dressed and gather her things. She'd been putting in so many extra hours at the hospital they'd have no business getting mad at her for being a little late, she reasoned.

She felt like a fool when she realized her phone card had already expired—she'd almost never used it, so she'd never really paid attention. But when she'd finally bought a new one, she only reached his voice mail. She hung up.

She stood outside his apartment with her mobile phone to her ear, huffing and puffing in her haste, her breath forming little clouds in the frigid early morning air. From inside, she could hear his phone ringing. She rang his doorbell, at first hesitantly, then more recklessly. He would have had to be comatose not to have heard her, she thought without humor.

Now she would _really_ have to put in extra hours, she groaned inwardly as she rushed to her next destination.

"Sanosuke?"

Tae's eyebrows shot up; then the young restaurateur seemed to remember something, and she turned away behind the bar she was polishing, a telltale flush across her cheek. "I think he might've mentioned something about going out of town this weekend," she said carefully. "But I could be mistaken. I know he mentioned it was his birthday the other day..."

"He and that chick Whatserface went to the hot springs," called a sun-browned boy from across the room where he was mopping the floor—Yahiko, if Megumi remembered right. "Don't you remember, Tae? She sure didn't stop yakking about it..."

He trailed off, more out of confusion over his boss's none-too-subtle hand gestures than out of any real diplomacy. But Megumi had heard enough. Brushing aside Tae's flustered explanations, she walked slowly, evenly, out of the restaurant—managing to overhear Tae threatening to deck Yahiko's pay for the week, before the doors closed behind her—and took the first bus she saw to the hospital.

She decided she wouldn't mind putting in all those extra hours. After all, she thought, it wasn't as if she had anything better to do with her time.

_tsuzuku_

* * *

Megumi is a bitch, I know. But for those who've been in her shoes... there's hope yet. Hehe.

Incredibly sorry for the long wait. I'd like to give a rather long-winded explanation, but (1) it would be boring and (2) it might detract from any potential enjoyment of this story, and I love you readers too much to do that. But please, accept my apologies. I'll definitely be continuing this story till the end--whatever that might be. Thanks and much love! O-tanoshimi ni!


	20. Showmanship

**Over Him**

by Mirune Keishiko

* * *

_chapter twenty_

**Showmanship**

"Three-mushroom cashew chicken?"

Megumi started as a little white box slid into her field of vision, beside the laptop screen. She hadn't even heard Dr. Shinomori come in. She blinked up at him looming over her shoulder, his glasses brightly reflecting the neat rows of text and showing nothing of his eyes.

"Th-thank you, sir." Reaching for the takeout, she realized belatedly that dinnertime had passed hours ago. "How did y—"

"That's what you ordered last week. You should take a break." The older man took the seat across the small table from her and split his chopsticks neatly down the middle, seemingly as absorbed in the task as he usually was in typing up his findings.

His tone brooked no response, or any conversation at all as it were; it was astonishing enough that he had ordered the food himself, instead of having her discharge such menial work as he'd done the past several nights they'd stayed late at the lab. So Megumi quietly shut her laptop and opened the box of takeout, greedily inhaling the rising steam. The hot moist morsels scalded like hell and tasted like heaven. She was hungrier than she'd thought.

"How is it going, Takani?"

Although she had been working with the man for several weeks already and had long suspected him incapable of small talk, Megumi still took a moment to realize that Shinomori hadn't been attempting it; he had been asking about her progress on her part of the report.

"It'll be done by tomorrow evening, sir."

His eyebrow lifted only a fraction of an inch for a fraction of a second—but Megumi saw it, and felt irrepressible satisfaction spread in a long-missed warmth inside her.

"We're making good time, then." He even _sipped_ from his drink silently, gracefully. Megumi suddenly felt acutely conscious of the very way her hand was curved around her plastic cup, how the condensation trickled, tickled one fingertip and then another. "We should be able to submit well ahead of the deadline."

Megumi could only nod, and keep her eyes diligently trained on her chopsticks as they fished for the last shimmering grains of rice at the bottom of the box.

"We should celebrate, once we do that," continued Dr. Shinomori thoughtfully, glancing at the calendar that had been pinned to the corkboard on the other side of the room. "I think I'll have some time. I suppose a dinner would be appropriate?"

Megumi prayed to the heavens her teeth weren't adorned with half-chewed chives as she permitted herself a modest smile. "Whatever you like, sir."

Shinomori nodded, face as unmoved as though they had been discussing the risks of treating thoracic congenital scoliosis in prepubescents. He gathered up his clutter and excused himself, pausing on his way out the room only to say, without turning, "I'll be expecting your part tomorrow, then."

"Of course, sir," said Megumi, sitting up straight in her chair.

For all her best efforts, it was a while before she was able to focus on her part of the report again.

_tsuzuku_

* * *

It's been almost a year since the last installment! _hangs head in shame _So very sorry! But it's summer break again and I really hope-slash-plan-slash-intend to bring this to the end then. Though that seems to still be several chapters off... 

I can't thank enough everyone who might still be coming back to this despite this long hiatus. And for new readers, welcome! I hope you all enjoy this humble--very humble--story of mine.


	21. Turning to Salt

**Over Him**

by Mirune Keishiko

* * *

_chapter twenty-one_

**Turning to Salt**

She was a pretty young thing, simply clad, with a serious look to her. The college student looked up briefly from her notebook to adjust something on her music player and Megumi glimpsed sharp green eyes, an unmade-up mouth pursed in concentration—which broke into a broad grin as she waved at a group of young men and women walking past the window, who enthusiastically waved back. The girl gave a short, easy laugh as her friends pretended to have to shout to make themselves heard through the glass, forming their mouths around words with slow, exaggerated movements.

So, that was the hot springs girl, eh? Megumi quickly turned back to her cup of tea and pretended not to have seen Tae's brief look of sympathy from behind the bar. Well, she was attractive, she was young, she was obviously popular and friendly. There were any number of ways she and Sano might have met. And Sanosuke would turn any woman's head. Tall, handsome, sexy, funny, flirtatious Sanosuke...

_...who's just like every other guy I've ever met._

She grimaced and sipped her tea. Nobody had told her anything, but it had been clear from the panic that had flickered across Tae's face when she'd first come in, and the restaurateur's warning glances at Yahiko and meaningful nods in a certain direction when Megumi had pretended to be busy with the new menu, that there was something about the lone figure seated by the side window and briskly stirring one of Tae's trendier green tea concoctions.

Megumi hadn't seen or heard from Sanosuke since the fight in the car almost a month ago; it had been over two weeks since the birthday that she'd completely forgotten. _It figures_, sighed Megumi to herself, _that the one time I finally dare to unbury my head from work, I run into _her.

"So, I take it you're finally getting a break from all that research stuff you were doing?"

Walking up, carrying a tray of salads to put in the display fridge, Tae was, consciously or not, putting on her "let's change the subject" voice. Megumi smiled at her well-meaning friend.

"Yeah, he took care of the rest already. He submitted the paper this morning."

"Oh, a _he!"_ And _that_ was her "I smell testosterone!" voice. Megumi groaned inwardly. She'd never mentioned anything to Tae about her research partner—or more precisely, her boss—before, and for good reason. Tae's eyes sparkled at her over the display case. "Sounds like you were working pretty closely together. Do tell!"

"There's not much, really." And Megumi found herself dropping words as reluctantly as though she were being made to talk about top-secret research findings, though her mind lingered pleasantly on Tae's excited conclusion. "He just used to be my professor, is all," she finished lamely, groping for more to say under Tae's eerily intense gaze; the woman was always all ears for even the barest hint of relationships and even their aftershocks, which was one reason her restaurant and bar never wanted for customers. "And I just needed the experience. I learned a lot," she added, hoping that Tae would take the hint and move on to ask about, say, immunohistology.

Tae didn't. "You should go out with him!" she chirped, cheeks pink from the chill as she shut the display refrigerator, salads safely stowed. "He sounds cute and I think you could really build something on what you've already started..."

Megumi couldn't help chuckling as her friend bubbled over with suggestions, eyes as wide and starry as though she were planning her own lovelife. The arrival of a group of tourists mercifully distracted the young matchmaker, however, and soon Megumi was left in peace with a dish of a new experimental green tea panna cotta that Tae wanted her to test.

Megumi had always prided herself on her self-control, but it took her a while to realize—as she raised the first teaspoonful to her mouth—that she was staring again at the oblivious girl. Hastily she looked away, but the noise and chatter between Tae and her new customers failed to drown out the echoes of a merry peal of girlish laughter inside her head. Had the hot springs girl laughed that way when Sano clowned around? Whenever Megumi had been focusing hard on schoolwork, the roosterhead had always cracked a joke or two, wanting her to smile. _Relax, kitsune, _he'd always used to say. _The world's not gonna end yet. _Megumi bit her lip, staring down at the dessert which was undoubtedly delicious if she could only taste it past the bitter tang in her mouth.

How long had they known each other before they'd gone together that weekend? Megumi had never seen the girl before; was she an old flame of Sanosuke's? What else did one do at hot springs anyway, besides—and Megumi's grip tightened on her cup. Had they shared a room? Had they shared a bed?

She remembered that it had been Sano who had made the bar in Tae's restaurant. The wood was lightly stained, and with Tae's meticulous care even the inevitable water damage from years of use did not mar the beauty of the polished surface, the silky grain snaking under and through the occasional natural spot of shadow. Megumi ran her fingers along the curved edge, remembered an early morning when she had been hungry and hung over and had stopped on the staircase to watch him work, his muscles sleek, his body smoothly rhythmic as he bent over a chair whose wood he'd been smoothening.

Remembered blueberry pancakes on the bank of a morning's river. The tentative gentleness of calloused fingers, hushed whispers in the warm darkness beneath her sheets. She had been surprised, then, that such deliberate, careful tenderness could come from a man, could come from a man _like him_—someone she'd dismissed early on as rough, unheeding, unthinking. It had, in fact, been the visible rawness of his strength and his quick, instinctive ways that had drawn her to him in the beginning. What she hadn't expected, and what had brought tears to her eyes those first few times, was how finely he reined in his strength, how considerate he was in following his well-honed instincts.

When she'd blinked back her tears—though two had escaped before she could do anything, and spotted the counter, _his_ counter—she thought to look: the girl's seat was empty.

Megumi sighed and finished her panna cotta, grateful, at least, that Tae hadn't seen her momentary emotionality. The kind woman would undoubtedly have come bustling over and raised a fuss. Megumi scribbled a short note to her friend, enthusing on the quality of the dessert, and left, the note and her payment tucked under her empty plate.

She had a dinner to get ready for.

_tsuzuku_

* * *

As always, I am deeply grateful to all who have read and reviewed, and especially to those who have kept up all these years (gah, I never thought I'd say "years" about a fic of mine...!). Special _special_ regards to Akanke, whose career choices I very much envy, and to Crewel the indefatigable SxM fan!

The next update should take a few more days, because of real life and all that crap that we put up with when we can't escape into our fantasy worlds. Sigh. But I do hope to finish this by June. Send me the Force, guys! Hehe!


	22. in the shadow of fairy tales

**Over Him**

by Mirune Keishiko

**

* * *

**

_chapter twenty-two_

**in the shadow of fairy tales  
**

They came as a pounding on the wet, shifting sand, as much sound as weight, and then trailed laughter as they raced around her, one tagging the other, paying her as much attention as if she'd been just another moss-covered rock on the beach. One of them was smaller and had longer curls, and they were bundled up in matching sweaters with elephant appliques, one yellow, one green. Megumi watched them chase each other a little ways on along the shore; when the shirted toddler fell, she started forward instinctively, but he picked himself up in a moment and stumbled on after his sister, his laughter starting up again just as abruptly as it had stopped. They ran into the surf, jumped up and down in the shallow, icy water, giggling at the sounds they made and the way their waterlogged jeans soon grew heavy.

She exchanged quick smiles with the couple who followed soon after, hers amused, theirs sheepish. Megumi watched them: They called out to the children, who abandoned their jumping pastime reluctantly and ran into the couple's outstretched arms, alternately laughing and shivering. Their hair glistened in the setting sun. They must have missed going to the beach in the summer, thought Megumi.

To the sound of the woman's good-natured scolding about frostbitten toes, they walked on, soon leaving Megumi to herself and a rising briny wind that whipped her hair and made her teeth click. It had been an unusually mild day, but the last of the winter still clung on.

Dr. Shinomori had cancelled their dinner a mere hour before they had agreed to meet. He had given no reasons; Megumi hadn't thought it proper to ask. She had felt an odd sense of relief, really, when she had come out of the shower to find the message on her machine. It had, after all, been the Valentine's weekend, although she'd nearly forgotten; it would have been awkward to have a fancy dinner alone with a male superior while surrounded by cooing lovers. She'd spent the night in the mostly deserted dorm making self-indulgent concoctions of chocolate and peanut butter, the resulting sugar crash causing her to fall asleep over her case reports—early, which was the important thing.

But then he had invited her to come along as his assistant on a weekend convention in Prague, all expenses paid, and she had accepted. Between the Golden City and the research reports and the world-famous experts he promised to introduce her to—she tried to make herself heard over the thrilled squealing of her nurse friends—how could she have refused? She would have found some excuse anyway, to avoid meeting with Kaoru and Kenshin to pick bridesmaids' dresses—Sano, she thought bitterly, might show up—and this was far better than anything she could dream up.

And true enough, the city had been utterly enchanting. In the afternoons as they headed back to their hotel—mostly in silence, for Megumi had given up attempting small talk—he followed her without remark along the scenic streets, making no complaint about the fact that their route varied daily. She had taken that for approval. In mutual reticence they would stop, almost unconsciously, to admire the spectacular architecture, the elaborate statues along the Charles Bridge, the breathtaking multicolored glimmer of reflected light in the river as evening set in. On their first afternoon the session had ended early; as they wandered through the old square, she had returned from buying a snack to find him staring up in fascination at the famous old astronomical clock. She had hidden her smile and waited patiently for him, standing some distance behind him sipping her hot strong coffee. On the way home he spoke as little as ever, but he seemed to have a brighter energy about him than before and his eyes—the few moments they left their surroundings to rest on her—were softer, rounder, almost glowing. At dinner, he told her it was his first time in the city. They parted afterward with hardly another word; she strolled along the riverbank and watched honeymooners cuddle, then went to bed and saw, under the door, that his light was still on.

She wondered if perhaps he, too, was lonely, and that was why he had brought her along.

On their second and last evening, she joined the farewell dinner for the participants. Dr. Shinomori dutifully introduced her to those she hadn't met yet; they gave her enthusiastic compliments, invited her to apply for prestigious programs, and—as the drinks added up—made a few sidelong jokes that were quickly and gracefully answered by Shinomori himself. It was his intervention, far more than the teasing comments, that shocked Megumi almost into silence.

Perhaps it was the thought of finally leaving behind that magical place the next day, or that they had momentarily gotten lost in the dark, narrow, winding cobblestone streets on their way home and it had taken some time before they found a local, instead of packs of drunken university students on holiday. But she had been unbundling herself from her now too-warm layers, feeling the blood tingle in her numbed fingers, and he had entered her room to give her her ticket home—he was staying on for a few more days, but she was needed back on duty at the hospital. As he looked at her she felt the urge to lift her face to his, and did not resist. He kissed her almost apologetically.

His skin against hers still carried the chill of the night outside, and reminded her of someone else. But that had been a dreary motel room, not a cozy little hotel in exquisite Prague with the city lights still softly slanting in her window against the shadows, and she reminded herself that she did not believe in regrets.

The next day he informed her that he had written a recommendation to a colleague of his, weeks ago, and that she had thus secured a slot in the residency program she had been eyeing. She had only mentioned her application once, casually. He didn't see her off at the airport, excusing himself on business, even though it was a Sunday.

She came in to work on Monday to find the letter of acceptance in her mail. It was a three-year elite program hundreds of excellent doctors competed to enter, at a teaching hospital on the other side of the country. It would start shortly after her friends' wedding.

Alone, Megumi watched the sun set on a gray, unlovely ocean, sea spray flecking her lips with salt as the tide began to rise. Almost subconsciously, she patted her coat pocket to make sure the letter was still there.

She turned and, in the fading light, headed home.

_tsuzuku_

_

* * *

_Five million years later, an update! Sort of. I can't even begin to apologize to you readers (if there are any left of you ;). Especially for the silly/pretentious title of this chapter (honestly, I do titles last and I just wanted to get this out already, you know? ;) and the perhaps overly melodramatic style. It's been a long long time since I did this kind of thing and maybe I've overindulged myself, haha. But I do hope it has somehow satisfied anyway. I can't promise when the next update will be, but maybe this summer I can finally finish this crazy thing. (Ah the dangers of a too-personal story--you might move on even though your characters haven't!) Much love and gratitude to everyone who has thought to come by and read and, in particular, favor me with a review. Best wishes to you all--till the next installment!


	23. come she will

**Over Him**

by Mirune Keishiko

**

* * *

**

_chapter twenty-three_

**come she will**

It had been a spring afternoon much like this when she had come across him on this same bench, his medical textbooks stacked beside him obviously unread as he sat alone with his head inclined backward, gazing up at the spreading branches above. On that day—as on this one—the lone stalwart cherry tree still standing in the park had just begun to bloom.

She had thought the soft-spoken redhead pretty from the moment she'd caught sight of him on orientation day, but as she'd stared at the blissfully oblivious, solitary young man smiling up at the cherry blossoms, she'd felt something give inside her.

She had been looking for somewhere to take her much-belated lunch in peace, which conveniently afforded her a way to broach the topic of sitting next to him.

Kenshin was mild, gentle, and extremely reserved, forcing Megumi to curb her fondness for teasing and argument to a point just short of annoying him. It was, she decided after some reflection, the lonely air about him that drew her—the feeling that he didn't belong anywhere in particular, that he existed for his own purposes in an experience of his own choosing.

The childlike way he hid from the gaggles of female classmates aggressively pursuing what they thought to be their last chance at love aroused a strangely protective spirit in Megumi. As much as it embarrassed Kenshin, he had to admit that the girls eventually stopped bothering him after some weeks of Megumi clinging to him in campus and loudly cooing "Ken-san." It served Megumi's purposes as well; it was a relief to finally be able to walk down the hall without some pompous schoolmate pestering her with his unwanted offers of indoor study dates.

Kenshin excelled at his subjects, which both irritated Megumi—his constant competitor for the top spot—and saddened her when he finally decided to quit medical school. But she had come to expect it; Kenshin never liked to talk about himself, but she had sensed always the unease with which he had pursued his studies, avoided mingling socially with their classmates. She suspected it had something to do with his fondness for sitting outside on his own, watching the clouds and continually putting off studying. She would study diligently beside him, the two together in companionable quiet, a knowing acceptance of each other's equally solitary presence on what happened to be the same park bench.

Thus Megumi had noticed, with a keen feel for contrasts, how unthinkingly and intimately comfortable Kaoru and Kenshin were together.

The old bench was gone; in its place was a chessboard table, and a flagstone path had been laid out beside the old cherry tree winding down to the pond at the far end of the park. Megumi had just sat down at the chessboard and brought out her laptop when a familiar cheery voice she hadn't head in months said, "Nice to see you again, Megumi-dono."

She smiled up at him. "Hello, Ken-san."

She had been terribly remiss in her maid of honor duties, and, as school wrapped up, had set aside the next several weeks to help plan the wedding. It was now only a few months away. They discussed invitations, dresses, favors, themes, Kenshin cuddling Kaoru and Kaoru bristling at Megumi's criticism of the bride-to-be's culinary skills (and at Kenshin's rueful agreement--hastily retracted). Finally, bruised egos were soothed, mischievous jokes tactfully prohibited (Megumi made a show of pouting), and schedules set, and Megumi began packing up. She was not a little excited at the thought of busying herself for a while with things entirely unrelated to school.

"You guys aren't going yet?" she asked, noting that the couple seemed in no hurry to leave.

Kenshin shook his head. "We'll stay a bit. This is the first time Kaoru's come here."

The park bench had faced the sunset, and though the sun couldn't be seen for the trees and the city skyline, Kenshin had always enjoyed watching the sky run its course from bright blue, to dusky pink and purple, and finally to the deep clear shades of evening. Megumi had spent many afternoons just watching the fading sunlight play on the unspoken wonder in his face.

She took her leave, contenting herself with the obvious, quiet happiness in both their faces. In her wake she heard them talking low and soft, Kaoru's inquisitive tones rising in counterpoint to Kenshin's low, pensive voice. He was telling her how he used to come here everyday when he was uncertain and unhappy in med school, once the cherry tree bloomed, and how he liked to watch the sky's colors turn; how he had met Megumi here, the quiet, aloof, brilliant classmate all the other guys had been going crazy about...

At this point Kaoru's voice squeaked in envy, followed quickly by what Megumi knew from long acquaintance as Kenshin's "explaining" voice. She hid a smile as she walked briskly on, not wishing to hear the echoes of intimate conversation that caught at her heart, the fast-reddening sunlight from behind her flecking the path like shadows, like cherry blossom petals.

_tsuzuku_

_

* * *

_You'll find at YouTube (/watch?v=lO9Ild2cvdgv) the gorgeous, serendipitous Simon and Garfunkel song that surprised me with its memory and its aptness. I hope this satisfied in its own way. Thank you for reading! I hope to have more for you soon!


	24. Time and Tide

**Over Him**

by Mirune Keishiko

* * *

_chapter twenty-four_

**Time and Tide**

Thunder crashed and boomed outside as rain pelted the windows of the staff lounge; wind whipped the treetops and howled against the hospital walls, churned the river in the distance to an angry gray. Megumi poured herself a fresh cup of tea and reveled in its warmth in her hands.

"See, even the weather hates that you're leaving," teased Anne, dimpling into a grin over her plate of cake.

"Don't forget us when you're a famous multimillionaire oncologist, now." Sheryl glared at Megumi for added emphasis, oblivious to the smear of frosting on her chin weakening the effect.

"And let us know how Christine's doing!" Hitomi beamed. Their fellow nurses had transferred, weeks before, to the same hospital where Megumi was to have her residency. "She hasn't e-mailed in a while."

"Things won't be the same without you." Leila sucked gloomily on a sugar flower. "Even the icicle seems depressed today."

Megumi paused over her tea to arch an eyebrow at her. The other nurses exchanged glances.

They burst out laughing.

"Okay, okay, so not even _that's_ possible," giggled Leila. Behind her, Hitomi leaned over the sink complaining loudly of milk in her nose. "But _supposing_ he felt any kind of normal human emotion at all, and _assuming_ he's even physiologically capable of showing it on that panty-creaming face of his—"

"Oh dear, look at the time! Your break's almost over!" Megumi announced, exaggeratedly checking her watch as Leila stuck her tongue out at her.

Her friends had surprised her on her last day of internship with cake and much affection. After hugs had been tightly shared, well-wishes said, and toasts given over teacups, Megumi--surreptitiously wiping away tears--finally left the nurses to their rounds and headed to Dr. Shinomori's office. To her surprise, it was dark inside, the door locked. Peering in the glass, she saw that his coat was missing from its usual hook on the wall.

She had had little opportunity to speak with or even see him around the hospital since his return from Europe some weeks ago; as his research was momentarily concluded, she had been reassigned to another department, in a different wing of the building, to round out the last days of her internship. It was rare that Dr. Shinomori left before nighttime—but then, perhaps he had had to change his routine since she had last worked with him.

She hesitated, then slipped it under the door and, almost hastily, walked on to the elevators. It was nothing really, just a silly little card, chosen after much dithering at the shop—it was astonishing how so few cards didn't have a cutesy animal or a picture of flowers or some piece of gold-lettered lacy-fonted sap on the front—and filled up with even more dithering at home. Just something brief and elegant to express her appreciation for the year's experiences, closing with something equally professional, almost trite--continued success in his career, may he go on to inspire even more with his work, et cetera... Just _something_, because Megumi felt that if closure was not going to come around for her, she may as well invent it for herself.

As the elevators dinged shut in front of her, she wasn't sure if she were more relieved than disappointed that he had saved her the trouble—the immeasurable, unspeakable, gut-twisting trouble—of having to actually talk to him, to actually say some form of goodbye to his face.

"Your last day here, correct?"

Megumi about had a heart attack. She had been cleaning out her locker. She hadn't noticed him come in.

"Yes, sir," she answered dutifully over her pounding heart. He was standing directly behind her—too close for her to turn around, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body, sense how tall he loomed behind her. She kept her voice and hands steady, hoping he wouldn't hear the blood leaping in her veins.

He stepped away, and finally she could turn and face him, almost defiantly. He had taken off his glasses for some reason; his blue eyes burned into hers, reminding her faintly of a strange and fantastical night in a fairytale city.

"I wish you all the possible success then," he said at last. "I trust you will blaze trails in your career."

As Leila and the other girls had noticed, he almost never showed emotion, not even fatigue on the longer, more wearisome days of his practice. Remembering that one time when he showed himself more human than she'd thought possible, Megumi watched him now, his handsome face as cold and impassive as ever.

She smiled and thrust out a hand.

"Thank you, sir." He shook it briskly. "It wouldn't have been possible without you."

* * *

Outside the storm had faded to a steady drizzle, but it was still too wet to make the trip home, so Megumi stopped at the cafeteria. The cheese rolls were the only thing she'd miss from the food here, she thought wryly, as she bit into the first of half a dozen and started to stir a packet of cheap coffee mix into her cup.

"'Scuse me, Megitsune." A waving, heavily bandaged hand interrupted her vision. "This seat taken?"

It was, apparently, her day for surprises.

_tsuzuku_

* * *

Thank you so much to everyone who has read or commented or favorited; it means so much to me! Majime, I hope you're somehow satisfied. To g3ozLizh, so glad you're still sticking with this, even though it's taking forever haha! Wish you the very best getting over whoever that was, hee. To dear nukegrrl, Sissi, and Akanke, I am also heartily grateful for your perseverance and patience! Nyako, kar00, asga, Allison, and Mitsuki, and everyone else, I hope I have somehow satisfied.

And of course, to the ladies--ahem--nurses, you know who you are and you know how much I love you. Hehe.

Aoshi was, as always, TERRIBLE GREAT SMEXY fun to play with, but alas, away he goes. Or Megumi goes, rather. Stay tuned...


	25. Souvenirs, Provisions

**Over Him**

by Mirune Keishiko

* * *

_chapter twenty-five_

**Souvenirs, Provisions**

"As far as you're concerned"--and Megumi, forcing as much calm as she could despite the sudden lurch of her heart, stared up at familiar brown eyes--"I'm afraid that seat is very much taken."

"Gee, I never thought you were the type to believe in ghosts." Sanosuke slid into the vacant chair, sipping from a can of soda. He held his bandaged hand carefully, at an awkward angle. "Funny how things can change in—what, three months?"

"Maybe you just never noticed to begin with, toriatama." Suddenly she felt tired. Outside, the rain had died; she thought of the cherry tree in the park, probably stripped bare by the wind and rain, its former glory reduced to a sodden pink carpet at its roots. "Sprained again, I see," she added crisply, arching an eyebrow at Sanosuke's bandaged right hand. "What did you do this time, crush rocks with it?"

He managed a defensive look. "I had deadlines to meet!"

She bit back a laugh, smiled and shook her head instead. "I'll go on ahead. I still have exams next week." The coffee had never been particularly palatable anyway. She rose, tucking the package of half-eaten cheese roll into her bag with its intact companions, looking at the clock on the wall, the floor, everywhere but at him. "Take care of yourself, I'll see you at the wedding--"

She stilled at the coarse touch of gauze-wrapped fingers on her wrist. Reluctantly she met his gaze, somber over a seemingly roguish grin.

"I don't intend to leave things as they are, kitsune," he drawled, low and quiet. "Some things we can't just hide from."

Megumi glared at him. _Patronizing, condescending son of a_--

"Excuse me, Miss Takani."

Startled, Megumi whirled toward the cool voice that seemed to speak almost in her ear; suddenly she and Dr. Aoshi Shinomori were far too close, their faces scant inches apart, and she instinctively drew back. The overhead lights glinted in Shinomori's eyeglasses. Seeing herself mirrored imperfectly in the lenses, she wondered vaguely if the pastries were sticking out of her bag and making her look ridiculous.

"Dr. Shinomori!" she stammered.

"Is everything all right?" And blue eyes swept coldly down at Sanosuke, who was blithely throwing back the last of his soda, seemingly oblivious to the new arrival.

"Yes, sir, of course," said Megumi, mustering her usual brisk smile. "I was just leaving. You were looking for me, sir? You could have had me paged..."

He followed her outside the cafeteria and they ducked down a quiet, adjacent corridor. As Megumi turned toward him again, he drew an envelope from a coat pocket and offered it to her.

She took it, raising a puzzled gaze to him.

"They are more properly yours," he said almost dismissively, his eyes upon the envelope in her hands, unreadable. "You didn't seem to have taken any mementos for yourself, at any rate.

"Congratulations on your graduation," he added, as if an afterthought, as he turned away. "Your exams are a mere formality."

His white coat flapped in his wake as he strode away and vanished around the corner.

That was perhaps the most he'd ever said to her at any one time—that didn't, at least, consist of medical jargon and strictly relate to research work. Megumi stared after him, nonplussed.

In the envelope were three photographs and a note—from his prescription pad, as it turned out. Megumi allowed herself a grin, unfolding it to find, in crisp black strokes:

"Thanks

Apologies

Best Wishes."

They were photographs of... her, she was surprised to find; somehow he had taken them during their brief stay and even more brief moments together in Prague, when she had hardly even noticed that he had brought a camera. She had forgotten to bring hers. Rosy-cheeked and shiny-nosed from the cold, bundled up in plaid scarf and woolly red hat, in one photo she was clutching a paper cup of coffee as she gaped up at the soaring facade of a magnificent old Gothic church. In another shot, she was laughing as she spoke with a street artist, unconsciously tucking her wayward hair behind her ear—Megumi smiled to herself, recalling the flirtatious young man who had insisted in cheerful, broken English on sketching her for a fee; she had finally rebuffed him, but he had still called down the block to her in the most embarrassing way, drawing the looks and sympathetic laughter of passersby.

The third photo was gorgeously shot through with red and amber light. Like the other photos, Aoshi had taken it from a considerable distance away; in this one, he was behind her as they crossed the Charles bridge, bathed in fading sunlight, on their way home from one of the conference sessions. The wind caught at her hair, exposing her ear, pink from the deepening chill. Her face was half turned toward the sunlight, which traced her cheek in gold; she was looking over the bridge's railing, toward the water glimmering with the echoes of the dwindling light and the reflections of the gray, graceful spires of the city, some windows already lit from within. Striding along by herself, a statuesque slim figure in her long black coat, her hair lifting with the breeze, she looked fragile and lost and alone in the crowd of large-bodied Europeans and cooing, hand-holding couples.

She found Sanosuke sitting on a damp bench outside the hospital entrance. He looked up as she approached, as though he had been expecting her.

"I'll see you home," he said gruffly, rising to his feet, thrusting his hands into his pockets.

She did not object. They rode the bus homeward in silence, Megumi watching the afternoon sunlight slant in through the windows, flicker golden across the bored faces of passengers, wondering.

_tsuzuku_

_

* * *

_

Many many thanks and apologies I owe to my very patient readers, as well. I started this story around the time I started law school and it looks like I will (or should!) be ending it after I've finished law school, too (fingers crossed). Thank you especially to those who reviewed--it reminds me that there are actual living, breathing human beings to whom I owe these long-overdue chapters.

I haven't been writing fiction (or indeed, anything "for fun") in a long while, so I hope I haven't disappointed too much. And if I have, please forgive me--it will take some more practice yet to get the rust off.

Thanks again and see you again soon!


	26. Negotiations and Love Songs

**Over Him**

by Mirune Keishiko

* * *

_chapter twenty-six_

**Negotiations and Love Songs**

He got down with her at her stop. He walked with her the two blocks to her dorm, with long strides easily keeping pace, his hands in his pockets; she did not make conversation, or even eye contact, and neither did he. In equal stony silence they went up the steps to the doors. And finally Megumi stopped, turned, and looked up at him, a patient smile affixed to her face.

"Thank you, toriatama, for seeing me home," she lilted. "I'll just study in my room tonight, so you can go now."

He pouted and held up his bandaged hand.

"The girl at the hospital didn't do it the way you do it," he said plaintively. "I think it's cutting off my circulation, Megitsune."

Megumi sniffed—but glanced at his outstretched hand. "Looks fine to me. You're probably just imagin—"

"Oh my God! I think my fingers are going blue!" howled Sano loudly, slumping dramatically back against the building, clutching his bandaged hand with his good one.

Megumi felt herself go red as passersby glanced up at them. "Okay, okay, just shut up already!" she hissed, tugging at him as she pushed on the revolving door. The girl at reception had sat up at the outburst and now looked askance at the intruder—it wasn't a coed dorm—but Sano gave her a wink that Megumi pretended not to notice, and the girl sat back down behind the desk with her magazine and a smirk.

"I don't want you to do that here, it's so public, it's embarrassing," bawled out Sano as Megumi coaxed him toward a sofa in the lobby.

"You're an asshole," said Megumi tiredly as she fished in her bag for her key, having led a suddenly much more tractable Sanosuke up three flights of stairs and down a long corridor to the door of her room. "You know that, don't you?"

The key sank home. His good hand covered hers, startled her into silence. "Yeah, I know that." Megumi suppressed a shiver as his breath tickled her ear. His fingers tightened on hers. "I'm sorry, Megumi."

She stood wordlessly for a moment, head bowed; then she unlocked the door and led him in.

"With all the practice I've had with you, I should specialize in orthopedics instead," she muttered, pulling up a chair as he turned toward her on the couch, holding out his hand.

He looked at her closely as she began unwrapping his bandages. "So you've picked a field then?"

"I've gotten into residency, yeah." And she found herself telling him about the program she had been accepted into, that it was three hours away by plane, that she was going to leave right after Kenshin and Kaoru's wedding; the delicate bones and calloused skin of Sano's palm twitched only slightly beneath her fingers. She left out Dr. Shinomori's involvement in her admission. She spoke almost absent-mindedly, her movements deft and sure, knowing where to make it snug and where to leave room—it wasn't the first time Sano had come to her having injured his hand at work.

Dusk had fallen by the time she finally sat back, inspecting the finished product with satisfaction. "Now go away and leave me alone," she said good-naturedly as Sano rose to his feet, carefully flexing his hand and smiling. "I don't want to see your face or anybody else's for a week."

"Aw, come on. We haven't seen each other in a while." Megumi's eyes flared and Sano quickly added, "I'll bring you dinner. Your favorite. Turkey gyro and raspberry iced tea..."

Megumi sighed. He knew she couldn't refuse a free _and_ conveniently delivered, favorite meal—not when she wanted to save all her time for studying.

"And strawberry daifuku and I'm _not_ paying you back, and after _that_ you get out of my face. Deal?" She was herding him toward the door, the much taller man backpedaling before her.

"Aww, come on," said Sano again, grinning down at the young woman glaring testily up at him. "Ten minutes. Just to rest, c'mon, that's four flights of stairs we're talking about!" ("Three," Megumi corrected.) "Three, but all that food's going to be heavy, you know! And those stores aren't exactly right next to each other! And me with only one good hand! And come on"—Megumi had yanked the door open behind him, he very nearly fell through the doorway—"aren't you even just a little bit lonely, Megitsune?"

She thought of the photograph, the studied distance between viewer and viewed seeming to both mock and pity her, how her proud, sad, small black figure seemed lost and foreign and almost doomed against the light and life all around her. Perhaps, at that moment, staring out across the sunlit water, she had been thinking—as she had constantly thought during her brief stay in Prague, gazing in admiration at the history and the beauty all around her—how nice it would have been to share it all with someone, someone just as unfamiliar and awestruck and excited, who would marvel as she marvelled and smile as she smiled at each gorgeous and fascinating discovery. With whom she would bother strangers to take photographs of them in ridiculous poses against historic landmarks—she never did update that webpage Kaoru set up for her months ago, it was probably still that old ugly ID photo posted on her profile ("But it was the only photo of yours I could find!" Kaoru pointed out)...

She met his oddly gentle gaze with a grudging one. "Strawberry daifuku, _and_ four boxes of black bitter marble Pocky, or don't bother coming back."

Sano's jaw dropped. "But that's so hard to find!"

"You're the best, toriatama," said Megumi sweetly, and shut the door in his face.

_tsuzuku

* * *

_

Two chapters uploaded this time, if only in gratitude everyone who has so kindly read and waited (and reviewed ;). I actually had a somewhat different end in mind for these installments, but hey, when the muse calls, you've got balls! Further Author's Notes (yeah, I know those are the _real_ highlight of each upload, har har) after the jump. Special thanks to Paul Simon, who made an absolutely fantastic album I have herein shamelessly ripped off.


	27. Pilgrims' Progress

**Over Him**

by Mirune Keishiko

* * *

_chapter twenty-seven_

**Pilgrims' Progress**

Megumi had covered five more chapters by the time Sanosuke returned, laden with his booty. (He had found only green tea Pocky, which Megumi disdainfully accepted as a far second-favorite.) And of course courtesy demanded that she at least eat dinner with the man who had gone to such lengths to bring it to her. And then, after such a heavy meal, Sanosuke might have gotten a stitch if he headed home right away; so he rested—quietly, at a pointed glance from Megumi who buried herself again among her books and notes—on the sofa for a while. And, naturally, being comparatively bored as well as pleasantly full, by and by he fell asleep.

As the night deepened and the crickets began to hum, Megumi might have forgotten all about him, except that he started to snore.

He woke with a start when she shook him by the shoulder.

"It's past three in the morning, idiot. You'll wake up the whole dorm with that racket. You know we're not allowed to have guys sleep over."

"Nah, those girls aren't going to rat on you."

Megumi returned his confident air with suspicion. "I'm not going to ask how you know that. But I _will_ ask you to be quiet. I'll throw you out in the morning."

"My neck hurts in this sofa when I sleep on my side," whined Sano. "And my bad arm keeps falling to the floor..."

Megumi rolled her eyes and sighed. "All right, you can sleep in the bed with me. But no funny stuff!" she hissed as he got up perhaps too enthusiastically.

"Okay, okay." He turned a mollifying grin on her, scratching his head, until she turned away with a sniff. "_I_ wasn't going to try anything," he muttered.

"Yeah, right. You can use the extra travel toothbrush in the medicine cabinet, I threw away your old one," Megumi called out pointedly as he tottered to the bathroom.

"Oh, you didn't use it to clean the toilet?" Sanosuke stuck out his tongue at her and shut the door before her hairbrush made contact with his head.

It was nearly four in the morning, but Megumi was still wide awake, staring out into the moonlit darkness as Sano emerged from the bathroom and climbed carefully into bed beside her. It was a single, and he was not a slightly built man; but he kept his distance, although she could feel the warmth of his body seeming to burn into her back.

After a moment of intense inner conflict, she decided to speak. "You'll catch a cold on top of the blankets like that. And you're falling off the bed."

Silently he tucked himself beneath the sheets with her, moving closer but still leaving a narrow gap between their bodies, her back to him.

The crickets had stopped chirping; they, too, must have gone to bed.

"I hate you," she whispered, matter-of-factly.

Sano's fingers brushed her arm, then gently closed on it. Megumi did not move. "I'm sorry, Megitsune."

She sighed, closed her eyes, steeled herself. "Was she at least worth it?"

A pause.

"Huh?"

Megumi groaned. "Oh, never mind, if this is how you're going to play it—"

"Wait, wait." Sano tugged at her arm, but she refused to move; so he scooted closer with a rustle of bedsheets, hovered over her to stare down in confusion, his soft dark spiky hair flopping over his face. "Was who—? What? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh, boy, I can't believe this." Despite herself—she was tired, it was almost finals week, she was done with this; she'd told herself she wasn't going to bring it up, wasn't going to let him see her cry—Megumi found herself talking between tears. ​ "Tae said—that girl—and the hot springs—you went with her—"

"You mean _Uki?!_" Sano gave an incredulous laugh.

She slapped him.

Considering she was physically and emotionally exhausted from a long eventful day and she was lying supine to boot, thus lacking leverage, with a target that was a bit too close for proper momentum, Megumi couldn't help thinking in satisfaction—at the back of her head—that that was really a remarkably powerful slap across the face, and it at least stopped him short.

Silence fell, broken only by Megumi's sniffling, as Sano touched his reddened cheek and gingerly worked his jaw.

"Okay, I deserved that," he said quietly, once he had made sure he could still talk. Megumi looked away from his pleading eyes; her palm still stung from the blow. "But Megitsune, Tae got it wrong. Uki's a client. Her dad bought this hot springs resort outside town. They hired me to do some work and repairs for them—they knew my stepdad Souzou. I spent a weekend there to look over things. I kept meaning to tell you, but they gave me a really tight deadline and it was a crazy lot of work and the money was good..."

Sano trailed off, shrugged. Megumi refused to look at him. She wondered if his face burned just as hot where she had slapped him.

After a moment—neither of them moving—he stooped, brushed a kiss against her cheek where it felt branded into her skin, and lay back down beside her.

"'Night, Megitsune."

Several long, arduously counted minutes later, she wondered if he were already asleep as she snuggled surreptitiously closer to him. She had always liked to sleep cozily wrapped up in his arms. She wondered if he would take that as her apology, her mute gesture of contrition; she had always had trouble saying those words out loud, she who otherwise spoke so freely. He had always understood.

She held her breath as he stirred; then he gathered her close, and she pressed a soundless kiss into his palm. She fell asleep smiling.

But she still swatted his hand away when it strayed a little too far under the sheets.

_tsuzuku_

_

* * *

_

With apologies to John Bunyan, this time.

Shout-outs: Dear **eriesalia**, like I said, I knoowwww. Arrgh. Hahaha. But promises must be kept. ;) Dear **crewel-chan**, you who have earned every ounce and then some of some huge and magnificent All-Time Sano/Megumi Shippers' Loyalty Award, I'm honored by your patience and unfailing generosity with reviews. :) To **Anonymous**, thank you also for your patience! You should really sign up here already, save yourself the trouble. **asga **and Miss **MacGregor**, your encouragement has meant a lot to me! Dear **roosterboy**, you are really too nice. Sometimes I feel bad that I'm not serving you readers with much better-quality stuff, but at least if I can entertain people somehow, I shall not have lived in vain. :) Dear **Akanke**, sorry to have made you wait so long, but I hope I've somehow made up for the lack lately! **Lara** and **Nyako**, it was your observations about Sano's persistence that helped jump-start these latest installments, so I really owe you! Dear **shysie**, I'm sorry about the horribly long wait; I myself get discouraged by multi-chapter stories that drag on for years. Thank you for sticking with me! **Anne**, if you want more, there's always plenty of fantastic stuff by far better writers at the Fire & Ice community. ;) And dear **fox-san**, thank you so much! I always obsess about every chapter even--and especially--_after_ I've uploaded it, but I'm glad people enjoy them anyway. Maybe it's not so much they who have grown, but me... at least, after four years, I sure hope so. ;)

Much love and gratitude, as always!


	28. Coming Clean

**Over Him**

by Mirune Keishiko

* * *

_chapter twenty-eight_

Coming Clean_  
_

Megumi clambered deftly through the branches, leaving hardly a whisper of rustling leaves in her wake. She hadn't climbed trees in a long time, but now she was lighter than any child and faster, thrilled rather than terrified by the height at which she perched on the mighty boughs. She paused, and then she heard it—the low, ominous beating of a drum in the distance.

She didn't like it. She turned and dropped nimbly down to the ground, poised to flee the way she had come, but the drumming was getting louder, though she plunged deep into the brush...

Megumi groaned into her pillow. She shouldn't have watched _Princess Mononoke_ for the fifth time last night.

The knocking continued on her door, this time to a jaunty beat.

Eyes still firmly shut, Megumi groped about on the floor by her bed, found something that felt somewhat solid, and threw it feebly in the direction of the door. It thumped against the wood and she heard an explosion of fluttering. Crap. It was her oldest textbook, the one where half the pages had come off the spine—and now the other half had probably just ripped free as well. Determinedly Megumi flopped over onto her side and hugged her pillow over her head.

"Megitsune, time to get up! You've had more than forty-eight hours!" crowed a familiar voice through the thin door.

Megumi considered throwing her marble paperweight, but decided she didn't want to add the damage to her graduation expenses.

"I brought you breakfast!" added the irritatingly cheerful voice.

She cracked an eye open and peered at the watch on her nightstand. It was four in the afternoon.

"That better be good," she croaked ungraciously at the grinning man in the doorway, then went to brush her teeth as he let himself in.

"Now that's a sight for sore eyes." Megumi ignored Sano's teasing tone as she sat down to the spread of pancakes and bacon on her desk, tying her uncombed hair into a haphazard ponytail. "If your legions of admirers saw the Megitsune I see now, I bet they'd run screaming for the hills—"

"I was catching up on a week's sleep, toriatama," interrupted Megumi, pouring syrup. "Now, excuse me while I remind myself why you're still alive and squawking."

"Yeah, you're welcome." Sano poured her a glass of milk.

She was hungry. She didn't know how Sano had known, but yes, she'd been sleeping on and off for two days, ever since she'd gotten home from her last exam. She had even fallen asleep ten minutes into the previous night's movie—something just to occupy her mind while she slurped her instant noodles, something familiar and beloved—and had just barely managed to stop the film and crawl under the sheets before conking back out. Now she attacked the meal before her with a ferocity she only dared to display before—well, Sanosuke. She could thank him later, when she was again capable of coherent thought. For now, she ate another forkful dark and dripping with syrup and closed her eyes, thinking happily of the sugar surging through her depleted veins.

"Nice shot, Megitsune. New one?"

She looked up from the rape and pillage of her styrofoam plate to find that Sano had picked up Aoshi's photograph, the one of her on the bridge. Megumi hadn't had time to buy a frame for it yet so she had merely propped it up, unadorned, against a stack of books.

"About a month ago." Megumi shrugged, ate some more, pretended that the sudden flutter in her stomach was born of hunger, not worry. "This is fantastic, toriatama, thank you," she added, smiling at him with a mouth full of pancake, hoping to change the subject. But he merely nodded, still gazing at the picture as he put it back on her bookshelf.

"I heard you went out of town for a while." Hands in his pockets, he glanced aimlessly around the room, sipping from a juice bottle. "Work?"

"Yeah." Megumi drank long and deep from her milk, wishing he'd talk about something else. "Just part of my internship."

Sano sauntered over to swipe some bacon from her plate. "You must've really impressed him. Your boss, I mean."

The plastic fork bent in Megumi's grip. "It was fine," she said, forcing a light tone. Dratted Sanosuke must have gotten some tips on interrogation from Kenshin. That redhead was the one for this kind of subtle, persistent questioning, smiling at those digging their own graves...

"I heard it was big news at the hospital," continued Sanosuke idly, staring at the photograph again as he chewed on his stolen bacon. Megumi gritted her teeth. "First time that doctor guy ever brought anybody along with him. Overseas, too. Can't blame him, it probably gets really boring on the flight—"

Megumi pushed her half-full plate away and stood up. She'd lost her appetite. "It's really none of your business, toriatama."

Grinning his slow grin, Sano eyed her as she walked up to him. "The way Uki was none of your business, Megitsune?"

She glared at him. This close to her, only inches away, he smelled familiar, of sweat and skin, and she saw the anger, the jealousy twisting his smile.

Deep within her she felt satisfaction unfurl, bright and small and ugly.

"Well, I'll show myself out." His smile turned rueful. He was laughing at himself. "I'll see you at the wedding, I guess."

And then he was gone, the door closing gently behind him.

Megumi stood empty, the glow inside her vanishing as quickly as it had come, sinking into ashes.

_tsuzuku_

_

* * *

_

I owe a huge apology to the ever gracious Majime Noubenka, whom I neglected to thank in the last chapter's notes when she's been so very patient all this time, and so generous too with her feedback. Please do accept my most sincere apologies, Majime-sama! I am only a very silly, scatterbrained cat! *bows*

I was hoping to finish this this holiday season, as the very least I could do for those very kind enough to still follow this story, but unfortunately the holidays have been crazy stressful (I invariably dread them every year, really). Rest assured I am trying my best to wrap things up decently fast. The end is nigh, I promise you!

Thank you all so much, and sorry for the fresh drama, haha. These two just feed on it! But this unworthy cat shall do her best to whip them into shape!_  
_


	29. Here, at the end of all things

**Over Him**

by Mirune Keishiko

* * *

_chapter twenty-nine_

**Here, at the end of all things**

Despite all of Kaoru's fears, the dress _was_ finished on time, although it took a near-nervous breakdown on the part of the bride-to-be and some particularly masterful glaring and threatening on the part of the maid of honor, which in turn caused another near-nervous breakdown on the part of the heretofore lackadaisical seamstress (averted only by further fiery-eyed death threats from Megumi). And Kaoru was resplendent in elegant dress and happy tears as she walked down the aisle toward Kenshin, who looked, Megumi observed critically, about ready to cry himself.

She felt Sano looking at her from where he stood near Kenshin, but it was only for a few moments; she was relieved when he looked away, and realized she'd been holding her breath.

It was, of course, over in a flash. Sano, to his credit, didn't even pretend that he had forgotten the rings. As she and her new husband embraced after the ceremony, Kaoru apparently couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry first and tried to combine the two, to results ruinous to her makeup and Kenshin's suit. Megumi had to blink the tears away, and for once didn't blame it on the nearly sleepless night she'd had, scrambling with the bridesmaids to put together the several dozen favors that had been put off until the last minute.

She loitered, inconspicuously she hoped, some distance from the crowd as Kaoru prepared to toss the bouquet. But maybe Kaoru was too well toned from her lifetime of kenjutsu training. The bouquet flew wide of the many eagerly straining hands, and hit Megumi on the head just as she was studiously eyeing the floor at her feet and trying to worry about the reception caterer instead.

All in all, she concluded some hours later, it was completely understandable that she'd drink a little too much wine a little too fast.

"Stop that already, Megitsune," said Sanosuke, walking over as the third coldly spurned would-be dance partner slunk away from Megumi's baleful stare. "We don't want any of the guests hanging themselves outside. Bad luck and all that."

"Yeah, Megumi, you look like you could use a rest," added Kaoru, drawing up a chair beside her friend and patting her on the shoulder. "You've been up all night and you did a fantastic job. The hotel gave us an extra room. You should have it."

"I hope it's not right next to the honeymoon suite," Megumi groaned, rising to her feet somewhat awkwardly; she'd forgotten how high four inches of heel felt. "I'd hate to hear you and Ken-san doing it all night long."

"I'll see her upstairs, jou-chan," Sano promised, steering Megumi away before a red-faced Kaoru could recover to say anything else.

As the elevator lurched upward, Megumi tottered a step. Sanosuke caught hold of her arm, steadied her with a hand low on her back. She said nothing, fixedly watching the numbers change in the glass panel. She wished the room were higher than just the fourth floor. Much higher.

"How gentlemanly of you to see me up, toriatama." Megumi leaned against the wall, feeling her face hot against her arm, as Sano unlocked the door. "Such supreme self-sacrifice, I'm sure."

"Just wanted to make sure you didn't walk into any bridesmaid-boning, that's all." And Sanosuke elaborately peered inside as he pushed the door open, flipping on the lights. "I know I saw that broom-head disappear somewhere with somebody. She must have been _really _drunk."

"Like I said," smiled Megumi as she kicked off her sandals, "how gentlemanly of you."

Her small toenails were a glossy, sheer pink. Her dress was also simple, rose-colored, silky. He kissed her.

He wished he'd drunk more; then he'd have an excuse, too.

"Give me," breathed Megumi into his mouth, and he didn't even flinch at the overpowering scent of wine, "sweet dreams, toriatama."

He might have broken the zipper on her dress. He cursed. She giggled, tangled her fingers in his hair.

"And you say _I'm_ cheesy," he muttered against her collarbone. "I'll never let you live that down, Megitsune."

"You'll have to earn that right first, Sanosuke."

He did his best.

_tsuzuku_

_

* * *

_Apologies for the long (very long!) wait. Special thanks to Akanke.

(Oops, just so everyone knows, this isn't the last chapter. Not quite yet...)


	30. Often Mistaken for One and the Same

**Over Him**

by Mirune Keishiko

* * *

_chapter thirty_

**Often Mistaken for One and the Same**

"Good morning, Megitsune."

"...Is it morning?"

"Well, it's still a few hours before they open the breakfast buffet, but technically, it's morning."

She said nothing. He nuzzled her head.

"You should shampoo. All this hairspray sucks."

"You should comb. That stupid hairstyle sucks."

He bit her shoulder, lightly. She yelped.

"How long till you move?" he asked, as she self-consciously touched her product-stiffened coils of hair.

"Two weeks."

"Not a lot of time."

"I don't have a lot of time."

"Will you let me visit?" He pushed the nasty hair out of the way, spoke nearly into her ear.

She paused. "_Will_ you visit?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

The tears stung her tired eyes. "Why would you?"

He kissed her jaw. It tickled. "Because I'm a very simple guy with a stupid habit of sticking to the same thing forever once I realize it works."

"And a stupid hairstyle. Don't forget." She cleared her throat. "Does it really work all that well?"

She felt him shrug. "It will, once I'm done figuring it out." The rawness in his voice comforted her.

"Maybe it's just not a good combination. It and you. Maybe it's just not your style. Maybe it'll take too long to figure out, and you'd just rather give up."

"I think it's a great combination." His breath was hot at her nape. "Or it would be, if it would just let it happen."

"Pronoun trouble," they said at the same time. He laughed. It was a childhood cartoon they'd both loved.

"I'm hungry," she pointed out after a while.

"Only two hours now till the buffet."

"I barely ate a thing and now I regret it. All that free food."

"You should really take a lesson from me on that."

"...I'm hungry."

"Two hours, Megitsune. You know what we could do with those two hours?"

"Eat?"

"I dunno. I'm a very simple man with a stupid hairstyle and stupid habits and a big—"

"Oh, I wouldn't go that far, Sanosuke. I've known big."

She grinned up at him. He bit her again, on the chin. She yelped again.

"But I guess you'll have to do. You'll have to make sure to visit very often."

"Oh, shut up, Megitsune."

"Shut me up then."

So he did.

_tsuzuku_

_

* * *

_Nope, not yet the last chapter either. Sorry(?). Heh heh.


	31. Overs

**Over Him**

by Mirune Keishiko

* * *

_chapter thirty-one_

**Overs**

Pregnant. They were pregnant.

But of course they were.

And Megumi keenly felt the sting of tears and the rush of wine and not enough sleep as she gaped across the table at the blushing couple, their faces glowing with something more than candlelight. "Ken-san!" She winked at the red-faced redhead. "You _dog!_" Beside her, Sanosuke roared with laughter.

She waded through the maze of boxes in her kitchen to unearth some sparkling water and they toasted Kaoru and Kenshin's child with it, using jam jars because she still hadn't had time, in the month since she'd moved into town, to wash any of her glasses. Soon, however, Sano produced from seemingly nowhere a celebratory bottle and thus kept Kenshin thoroughly occupied, while Megumi horrified Kaoru with morbid tales of hellish childbirth scenarios until the latter nearly cried. The mother-to-be was tearfully blaming the flustered father for "doing this to her" as Sano bundled them upstairs to the guest room for the night and Megumi cleared the table.

The rain was falling, still falling as it had throughout that evening, although Megumi had mostly forgotten about it in the excitement of welcoming her friends on their first visit to her new home. Absent-mindedly drying a last jar with a towel, Megumi elbowed open a window; they had closed it to the chill that afternoon, but it was starting to get stuffy inside. The crisp air felt good against her hot face and she stared out at the foggy night, sighing at the steady patter of the rain among the trees. Cooped up either at home or at the hospital since she had arrived, she was still unused to so much rain, so often.

"You've done wonders for the place, you know that?" called Sanosuke to her wryly as he came down the stairs and picked his way gingerly through the tangle of debris and furniture in the living area.

Megumi chuckled, her back to him. "Somehow, what with residency, I just haven't found the time for interior decorating yet. How are they?"

"Settling in. Let's hope Kenshin doesn't puke on his unborn child in the middle of the night. The mother feels like killing him as it is. And how are _you?"_

He came to stand behind her, much too close. She stared pointedly out the window, resisting the urge to lean into the warmth that radiated from him. They hadn't seen each other in a month. "I'm fine."

He didn't touch her, only the tear that had sneaked down her cheek. She bit back her disappointment when he withdrew his hand. "You're crying."

"You're nosy." Sniffling, she wiped the traitorous wetness away with the towel and smiled crookedly up at him. "I'm happy for them."

His dark eyes were kind and his grin, broad. "I know."

Yes, he did. She put away the towel and jar.

"You're getting soft in your old age, Megitsune." His arms went around her like it was so damn natural, she thought, snuggling despite herself into their strength, because bad habits died hard. They kissed. Damn bad habits, she thought crossly.

"I've missed you," and she realized she looked as surprised as she felt.

"Gee, thanks." Sano nuzzled the top of her head. "If you want, I can pretend you didn't say that."

"Always so classy, toriatama." She was leaning into him now. His solid, protective warmth wrapped itself around her, felt better than ever. Oh, how she'd missed him. How she'd missed what she could be with him. He held her close.

The rain pattered on.

"I need to get to bed," groaned Megumi against his shoulder, her mouth muffled by his shirt. "Need to go on killing myself on duty early tomorrow."

He laughed into her hair, but didn't move. Megumi didn't either. Her bed, all to herself, would be uninvitingly cold. As usual.

"Marry me, Megitsune?"

She froze. Maybe it was the rain, playing tricks on her hearing. Sometimes in the middle of the night she'd wake up, thinking an intruder was in the house, this house that was way too big for her but a total bargain for the rent; but it would just be the rain—

"Hey. Sorry. I said..."

"Okay," she whispered.

He hesitated only a moment. Then he pressed a kiss tenderly to the top of her head. Megumi lifted her face to his and they kissed again, Sano tasting without comment the salty tears on her smiling mouth.

As she went on ahead of him up the stairs, he checked the doors and windows one last time for the night. He cast an expert eye across the living room to envision a cozy set of chairs that even an expectant mother would feel comfortable in, a broad, rustic dining table for friends to gather around year after year, with seats for guests both grown-up and small. He found himself smiling at the thought.

Then he turned out the lights and hurried up the stairs, because his fiancée was calling for him, and there was much to do in the days ahead.

_owari_

* * *

Because, c'mon, sometimes there really isn't much left to say. (And here I'd do a winky smiley except I don't even know if FFN will let that happen at all...)

Special gratitude for all who have left comments and reminded me that someone, somewhere, was or at least still might be interested in seeing this story come to a self-respecting end. Hehe. Particular love to Crewel-chan and Akanke, who never gave up.

I hope you all enjoyed it. It's been so long since I've written anything not terribly dull and unimaginative, so do let me know if I still haven't. (Smiley, demmit!) Thank you so, so much for reading!


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